Only Stop When I Say When
by Feelin Glayish
Summary: Gohan becomes a new teacher at Orange Star High School and finds himself entangled with one girl watching him; Bra Briefs. Gohan/Bra, Affair, 8 Parts
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z/GT and all its likeness does not belong to me. No profits are being made off this story.

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**Only Stop When I Say When**

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**Chapter 1**

"Pan!"

Gohan called from the main room of his capsule home, his voice carrying up to the bedroom of his daughter. "Come down here, we're going to be late!"

"Daaad." The girl's annoyance was tangible before she even set a stomping foot into the foyer. "_Please_ rethink this."

Gohan raised an eyebrow at his daughter's dishevelled appearance as she slouched into a chair at the modest kitchen table. He'd already put her favourite cereal in front of her neatly placed bowl and spoon. She poured almost the entire box of sugary morning nutrients out and then doused it with milk before digging in with a sleepy - but more likely _grumpy_- sigh.

The retired warrior and now scholar cracked his newspaper into a crisp sheet and nearly clucked his tongue in reprove. He stopped himself though, uncomfortable with the idea of imitating his mother in even the smallest gesture.

As a result of his laxness, Pan gained even more stubbornness and ground a brightly coloured socked toe into his knee. She gave him that familiar teen-aged girl aggressive glare.

"I think I'm coming down with the flu!" She produced some very fake sounding coughs. "Guess I'll have to stay home."

Gohan almost lowered his reading material but his wife Videl walked into their small kitchen with her nose in her ever present notebook. Even after all these years she was still hard at work with the justice system and being a lawyer took up a lot of free time. Now that she'd broken off on her own and started her own firm, Videl was even more pressed for time than ever before.

Gohan had thought about suggesting she settle down and relax some more; her father had all the money they could ever need to support a good quiet lifestyle, but he could never actually do that. He wasn't about to step on his wife's goals, especially when he believed in justice and fighting for what was right just as much.

The long-haired woman placed her hand on their daughter's forehead without missing a beat of her reading. "You're fine, Pan. School is still in the forecast for today."

She poured out the old coffee in her mug and refilled it with the new batch Gohan had just made.

Pan groaned and her spoon clattered uselessly into her now empty bowl. Suddenly, she was a flurry of activity as she jumped over the couch in the television room and pulled her book bag out from underneath Goten's feet.

"Hey!" The younger Son man complained. "That was my footrest, gremlin!"

Pan stuck her tongue out and made a face. The two started to argue like they did every morning, ever since Goten had decided he needed his space from their mother and moved in with Gohan and his family. Never mind that the two homes were right next to each other on an isolated mountain.

Gohan finished the sentence he'd been reading and put down the paper. He knew he should push Goten to sort himself out and find a job, but he didn't like the sound of those words even in his own head.

He pushed his chair back instead, and neatly cleared the table because Videl had disappeared up to her office again. He passed by the hallway closet and picked up Pan's favourite shoes, hiding them behind his back. He quickly exited the room to gather his book bag from his bedroom and when he returned, Pan was fuming by the door.

He smiled and handed her the shoes, which she angrily shoved her feet into. He knew she'd try to make a break for it when his back was turned.

Gohan patted his daughter on the head and ignored her squawk of protest. They would just have to get used to this situation.

Because it was Pan's first day at Orange Star High School.

And it was Gohan's as well.

* * *

Gohan sat in the long line of chairs at the head of the auditorium.

Further along the row of chairs sat other teachers, the principals, academic advisors and members of the West City school board who made up the staff of Orange Star High School.

Before them stretched a vast expanse of chairs filled to the brim with the student body.

As a scholar, his role in the world was not as well defined as one would think. For a long time after the destruction of Buu, when they'd been piecing their lives back together and figuring things out, Gohan had found nothing else but to continue on the path his mother had started for him.

So he had learned.

Being a scholar meant having a vast amount of knowledge and, most commonly, becoming an expert on many different fields of study. In turn, he used his knowledge to augment other people's jobs. He was kind of like a call-man. Companies or institutions who needed his involvement contacted him and he followed the call.

"Now students," the speaker was saying, his slow boring voice magnified through the little microphone on the podium. "I'd like to welcome you all back to Orange Star! I see many new faces. If you look up, you will see suspended on the walls around you the various rules and regulations our academic institution is proud to adhere to…"

The same call for the share of knowledge had led him back here, his old high school. He was needed to pick up the role of the new English teacher.

A soda can sailed through the air and splashed sticky liquid all over the Vice Principal's papers in the middle of his speech.

Gohan grinned nervously. "What in the…"

"Alright, who threw that?" The older man wailed, shaking his small podium in a fit. There was purple soda dripping down his arm.

The energy of the student body and the volume of the crowd rose. Another can zinged by with deadly precision and clocked the Vice Principal in the head.

Outraged, the rest of the staff stood, trying to calm the students.

Gohan quickly scanned the darkened room, worried about his daughter. He noticed her ki signature in the section primarily made up of first years. She sensed him and their eyes met.

His face fell at the sight of a pop can in her hand. She innocently brought it to her lips and took a sip.

Things were off to a fabulous start.

* * *

Gohan wrote on the large blackboard like he had all the other times. It was about a week into the school year now and he'd stepped into his duties with ease.

Pan still sent him daggers over the kitchen table at home, but she'd get used to it. Ever since the black star dragonball adventure had come to an end, and his father had left on the back of Shenlong…

Well, needless to say, Pan had some growing up to do and was determined to do it by herself.

He supposed that was why his daughter did not take English.

Gohan didn't mind.

He finished writing the rest of the lesson plan on the board. Gohan was used to being in the professor's role, but it was a little different in a high school setting. For one, it felt like every time he turned his back, baleful teenage eyes just like his daughter's were multiplied by a hundred, all boring into him, trying to make him burst into flame on the spot.

Gohan shook his head with a little sigh and had to smile a bit. It was just another day in the life of a scholar.

"Afternoon, class!" He greeted his last period of the day with a genial Son grin. He dusted his chalky hands off and straightened his cardigan. "Today we'll cover some literature done by one of my favourites…"

He droned on appropriately with good cheer, taking in all the faces. He paused, staring at one student in particular for a little too long. He blinked and shuffled with his notes, trying to erase his little indiscretion from his mind.

Bra Briefs was the only set of eyes who stared at him with something completely different.

* * *

There were good students and there were bad ones too.

Today Gohan was going to let them know who was who.

It was a few minutes until the end of the period and he smiled benignly, the class lesson wrapping up. He took a seat, looking up at the cinema-style seating, and the students filed down towards his desk where a plain piece of copy paper lay. It was a print out of their names and marks.

The students of the second year class groaned and beamed depending on what rested on that innocent little paper. Gohan could feel the penetrating eyes of the failing students already and he couldn't help laughing quietly to himself.

And then... then there was a _different_ kind of bad that laid eyes on him.

Bra Briefs was fifteen years old and entirely too young to be wearing that outfit.

She was slim, very slim, and her dark red PVC outfit was all long lines and small patches of pale skin. She bent over his desk.

He swallowed.

Her eyes flickered up to him and there was a slight smirk stretched across her lips. "Later, Teach."

Gohan couldn't help but think she'd found her mark.

He shook his head and blinked his wide eyes behind his glasses. He was appalled at himself. He almost couldn't articulate what was running through his mind – the barest flashes of ideas he refused to believe he'd even think.

What was he doing, entertaining thoughts like that? The girl had barely said two words to him and somehow he was losing his mind.

He looked up again, and Bra was nowhere to be seen. Instead Cabinetta, another of his students, was standing in front of him with silent tears streaming down her red cheeked face.

"A _fifty-nine?_— M-Mr. Son…" She stuttered uselessly and Gohan nervously chuckled, making the girl burst out into histrionics.

"Ah, now don't worry! There are plenty of opportunities to make this grade up." He fell straight into comforting her, forgetting the thoughts that had crossed his mind…

* * *

…Until a few weeks later as he exited the staff room.

"Gohan." Bra called out with a grin. She shut her locker with a loud clang and he jumped slightly. A blush immediately came to his cheeks from surprise. His mind went back to a place that seemed far away now. This was where he had met his future wife.

She was peering at him curiously, on the verge of laughing at his discomfort. "Are you okay?"

"Bra," He said her name and for the first time was embarrassed. "E-Er, it's past school hours. What are you doing still hanging around here?" The handle of his book bag slid nervously around in the palm of his sweaty hand.

A regulation Orange Star badge was attached to the strap of her purse, along with other smaller accessories like tiny pins that said "Cute" and "Heart" and "Sexy."

The Briefs heiress's lip quirked up and Gohan's eyebrows rose high as she leant in.

"Extracurricular activities." Bra whispered in a conspiring voice. She tugged at the edge of her short skirt.

His eyebrows lowered with almost vicious speed. Gohan frowned behind his large rimmed glasses, but just barely, because he wanted to be polite.

Bra smirked slightly, as if she knew what he'd been looking at. "Go on."

"What?" Gohan asked, a bit caught off guard.

The teenage girl shrugged, and the slack strap of her top slipped easily down her thin shoulder. She swept her long blue hair away from her neck, tilting her head in an arrogant expression that firmly reminded Gohan of her father.

No, that wasn't completely true. The comparison didn't stop at their being father and daughter. Gohan couldn't help his frown deepening. He pushed his glasses up in a needless gesture.

He knew what that look was now.

Bra looked at him as though she had power.

The half-Saiyan girl blinked those large blue eyes, and her expression transformed into something softer. "Go ahead, Mr. Gohan." She lilted. "Give me the advice I know you're itching to give."

He was the adult here. He should _say_ something.

The half-Saiyan man opened his mouth to do just that before he paused abruptly. He wouldn't be baited by a teenager; someone barely older than his own daughter.

"Give it to me." Bra said again, lower, a hint of laughter colouring her words in a very attractive way. That sounded completely inappropriate.

"I could use some tips for the next assignment, after all." She winked.

Gohan broke their gaze, feeling his cheeks burn in a deeper embarrassment he hadn't been expecting.

He could feel Bra's defiant eyes on him, and his starched white cotton shirt felt like it was made out of three layers of wool. His skin prickled and fizzled as if he was building his ki.

Angry teenage eyes he could deal with. Kids at that age were always searching for something to hate, something to have power over – something they could control. He could understand that and he was more than capable of ignoring it.

But the way Bra looked at him now was not the same. It felt like something he hadn't felt in a long, long time.

Bra nodded her chin down, and it was almost touching her collar bone as she looked up at him through her bangs. "Gohan?"

She tugged on her skirt. In the wrong direction. He wasn't imagining _that._

He swallowed and shook his head. Gohan began walking briskly down the empty hallway. The sound of his dress shoes clacking against the linoleum floor was loud and final, because she wasn't following after him.

* * *

Gohan sighed as he sank lower into his favourite chair in the television room of his home. The trend was the same. By the time he arrived home after the school day, Pan would already be hauled up in her room doing Kami-knows-what and Goten would be on the couch, blasting the TV.

The channel switched to an obnoxious reality show and the chattering voices on the screen made the ache in Gohan's head pound a little more.

"Goten… Did you even leave the house today?" He tried to be good about what he said, but one look at his little brother's face made him retreat that line of questioning.

"Of course I did." Goten replied with humour but just the tiniest sense of betrayal. "What do you take me for? After I slaved over that hot oven for that dinner you're _barely_ touching, by the way!"

Gohan looked down at his plate sitting innocuously on his TV tray in some guilt. He'd been shuffling through some more assignments from his students.

"You're right." He picked up his fork and took a bite.

"Where's Videl?" Goten asked off-handedly.

The front door opened, letting in a gust of the cool night air. Gohan looked over his shoulder and his wife walked in, carrying a wad of file folders in one hand and an overstuffed briefcase in the other.

"I'm here, I'm here." She sighed out and dropped her burden down on the kitchen table, immediately spearing the dinner plate Goten had left out for her with a fork. She ate while she walked over to her husband and was chewing as she gave him a quick tight-lipped peck on the forehead.

"How was your day?" Gohan asked her, rubbing the spot on his head.

The hair in her long braid was coming undone and frayed from a hard day at the office; he noticed it as she turned her back, already finished devouring her dinner.

"Still going strong," She replied and sank her plate into the kitchen sink. "This case file just doubled in size. A new suspect was added and I…" She stopped and gave him a smile, "I'll use the guest room again tonight, okay?"

Gohan felt the lines in his forehead deepen but let it relax out again with practised ease. "If you need help just ask!" He offered, but his wife was already up the stairs.

Goten whistled low to his right and raised an eyebrow. "Your wife's married to her work."

The elder Son just took another bite of his dinner. "We all bring our work home with us sometimes."

He swallowed and it tasted fizzy and annoyingly hot in his stomach. A pretty girl on the TV was giggling, the sound echoing in his ears. An essay was sitting on top of his lap; on the very last page was a phone number scrawled in girlish challenge.

Gohan was worried he would eventually bring his home too.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z/GT and all its likeness does not belong to me. No profits are being made off this story.

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**Only Stop When I Say When**

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Chapter 2

"Report cards are coming up soon and I want to be proud of you when I get yours, Pan."

Gohan merely listened with one ear as Videl chastised the young quarter-Saiyan over breakfast.

"Mom," Pan gritted out. "You should be proud of me no matter what. _Grandpa_ would have been!"

The comment made Gohan, and to his left – Goten, chew slower.

The stylish yet jobless Son male dropped his fork to his plate with an annoyed expression. Before he could say anything, Gohan cleared his throat.

"I've spoken with her teachers, Videl." Gohan smiled benignly. "When I get a chance, anyway. And there've been no complaints."

He tried flashing his daughter an encouraging grin, showing her he'd come to her rescue.

She didn't seem convinced. In fact, Pan's face had turned red and her nose was scrunched up in a really frustrated way.

"Complaints aren't really the issue." Videl said from behind her file folder. "That just means Pan doesn't stand out in her academics."

Pan slammed her hands on the table, and Gohan noticed she still wore her tomboyish fingerless gloves. "Mom. I'm not _Dad._"

There was an uncomfortable silence.

Videl sighed and stuck her documents under her arm before walking away.

Goten made a sound that was kind of like a cross between a scoff and a snort of laughter. He smirked from behind his hand. "No one here is like their father."

Gohan couldn't help thinking that he wished it was true.

"Alright," He collected their cutlery and plates to place in the sink. "Finish up, Pan. We'll leave early and try hunting down your teachers for some nice comments to tell your mother."

Pan glowered at him and folded her arms over her chest.

"It'll be like searching for the dragonballs!" Gohan tried again, and this time Goten really did snort loudly to his left.

"Sure." Pan replied with perfectly surly attitude. "And my wish would be for you guys to just leave me alone!" She jumped up from the table and ran out the door.

Gohan sighed.

* * *

The new English teacher of Orange Star wandered down the overfull halls of the school with a pinched expression. To the students who noticed him, he looked like he was having one of those days. And seeing as how Gohan had to bite his tongue every time he wanted to reprimand Pan at home, he was worried how much more frustrated he could become dealing with her at school.

Until now, they'd stayed relatively distanced at the academic institution. Orange Star was the biggest public school in West City, and most residents of the metropolitan had attended it at one point or another. The halls were always full to the brim with a diverse student body, which made it easy to go through a whole day, a week, even months without having to interact with someone worth avoiding.

His rambunctious daughter had obviously taken great advantage of that fact.

Gohan adjusted his book bag's strap on his shoulder, turning down the hallway that was made up of a few classrooms and eventually led to his personal office in the language department.

His contract was for the school year, and it looked a lot like he wouldn't be renewing it at this rate. Not only did it stress his relationship with Pan, but being a teacher amongst all these kids was starting to play with his mind. He was certain of that now.

The women in Son Gohan's life had really run him down. His mother resented him, his daughter resented him, and Gohan was pretty sure that his own wife would resent him too, if she found out about what had been going on inside his head lately.

He tried not to think about it too much, but the fact that he still had Bra Brief's phone number copied down in his daily planner weighed heavily on his mind. Not that he'd ever called her. Since that day she'd stood there in front of him, exuding an aura of…

Gohan's hand flew to his face and he tinkered with his oversized glasses in a nervous fashion. On some level he could attribute his little indiscretion as being a chance to prove himself wrong.

Teenagers employed intimidation techniques on their professors all the time. It wasn't new. This was a slightly different technique than he was used to but teenagers were all the same. Human nature never changed. Gohan knew he was fresh meat, and it was only a matter of time before every student would try to get a taste of what he was all about.

* * *

Of course, he hadn't expected to be tested so soon.

Along the row of rusty red lockers that lined the wall in front of his office, stood a teenage couple engaging in…

_Making out._ Heavily.

The long-haired blond boy, a fourth year student Gohan knew as Desker, had his hands wrapped clumsily around a thin frame of a girl. She was pressed against locker number 5639, and Desker's hand moved down to grasp at the small patch of skin exposed between the edge of her matching mini skirt and thigh highs.

"B-Bra." Gohan croaked out and the two teens jumped back from each other in fear.

Well, Desker did.

Bra's swollen lips went from a shocked 'O' to a calculating pout. She bit the side of her lip and Gohan watched, unnecessarily observant, as she brought the fallen strap of her tank top back up to rest properly.

Desker was blushing and stuttered, annoyingly, "Mr. S-Son. Sorry about that, we were just, ah…"

"What are you looking at?" Bra gasped out with unexpected loudness, looking scandalized. Gohan's tongue immediately felt too big for his mouth, whatever words he'd been about to say were flopping around in his mind like a fish out of water.

"I, uh…" The teacher made a random hand gesture that no one could ever make sense of to finish his sentence. Truth be told, he wasn't even sure why he'd made it any of his business.

"You two just…" Gohan sighed. "Just cool it in the hallways, alright? Desker, if you were half that interested in your reading, well…"

The boy's face went beet red and Bra suddenly scoffed.

"But, Mr. Son…" Her expression dancing with barely contained triumph. "I don't have _time_ for detention."

Gohan once again felt flummoxed. "Detention?"

Bra's eyes became watery and she made a frustrated sound. "But I had _plans!_"

"Uh," Gohan quickly exchanged looks with Desker, but the blond boy seemed even more confused than him.

"It's not _fair_." Bra pleaded again, this time taking quick steps straight into Gohan's personal space. He held his bag in front of him like a shield.

"Detention in your office is going to be even more boring than English in _your class._" Bra insulted him loud enough so other students in the far end of the hallway started snickering and paying more attention.

Bra wasn't done. She threw her hands onto her hips. "And it's totally _not_ fair that _I_ get detention and," She waved one gloved hand in the vague direction of Desker. "What's-his-name doesn't!"

The boy beside her was completely forgotten and looking more idiotic by the minute. The blond's mouth gaped open and closed before he decided the best option was edging away to escape being detained too.

"Ugh," Bra grimaced and turned on her low heel. "You won't be able to keep me forever. So better make this count." She announced. Her blue hair whipped around in fierce feminine disregard and Gohan felt as though he'd been slapped.

She stomped off into the crowd, which parted for her as if she were a celebrity. And maybe she was.

Bra Briefs was… _popular._ If that was the word for it Gohan wasn't sure. But he'd be polite.

Gohan lowered his bag and lowered his eyes too, in sheepishness. The leers of the students weren't really what made him feel so out of sorts. Out of his circle of family and friends, he'd been one of the smartest and most perceptive when it came to people. He'd always prided himself on being able to read a situation.

From what he'd heard, Bra's inappropriate interest in him was only going to be on the table for so long. It was obvious from her seemingly random tryst with the Desker boy. She'd deliberately provoked her teacher with that display.

Gohan was intimately familiar with the capricious nature of girls and women. Most of the time, it was better to hear what they had to say instead of ignore them altogether. He'd have to have a discussion with her at this rate.

Maybe he had to stop reading between the lines.

* * *

Gohan had an anxious tick in his leg that caused slight tremors in the school wherever he'd be forced to sit for too long.

He was _not_ looking forward to confronting the young Briefs in his office, but the cards had been played and he'd have to at least figure out what kind of game they were really playing before he could end it.

Because Gohan _did_ want to end this. He didn't like playing games. The only question that kept running through his mind was "Why me?"

And to a lesser degree, that he didn't want to dwell on… "Why not?"

He returned to shuffling through his papers and gathered a pile that he neatly clipped together before unzipping his book bag and placing them inside.

The last bell of the day rang. Today his last period class was a free planning period due to the staggered schedule all the students and teachers followed.

Almost immediately following the echo of the school bell's toll, there was a knock at his office door.

The half-Saiyan man looked up and Bra didn't wait for him to call her in. She strut through the doorway and closed the door behind her. The frosted glass of the door had his name printed on it on the outside, and her hand was resting against the backwards "S" and "O."

"Ms. Briefs." Gohan steeled himself.

"_Gohan._" Her lip was back to its normal state now, and he watched her bite it in an attempt to disguise her rudeness with cuteness.

"Let's get this over with, shall we? We can discuss the reason of your detention," He made sure to glower over the rims of his glasses at this, making it clear he knew she'd done it on purpose.

"Have a seat."

She strode forward, dropping her frilly bag on the extra chair in his office and then came around his desk.

Gohan floundered and before he knew how to defend himself against the situation, she had sat on his lap.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and put his hands on her hips in one startlingly smooth motion. Just like he'd done with Videl that morning as he gave her a peck goodbye…

"Bra—"

Bulma and Vegeta's daughter just rearranged the papers on his desk and clicked open her garishly pink pen. When he'd told her to take a seat, he definitely hadn't meant this.

She let her knees hang on either side of his own legs and the soles of her thigh-high boots only reached the midpoint of his calves. He ground his teeth together. There was a tiny beauty mark in the exact middle of her shoulder blades.

Bra looked over her shoulder and laughed. "Relax, Teach." She lowered her lashes. "I'll stay seated until every line is finished."

His ki rose without his express permission, and automatically his body tensed. Bra looked at him sharply, and he knew she had felt it.

The blue haired girl's look dissolved into one of vague amusement. It danced across her face before she warned him; "I wouldn't do that if I were you. If you force me to get up, Mrs. Rice—" The Japanese language teacher, "is in her office just next door. She'll _hear_ us."

The half-Saiyan man moved his hands away from her waist so fast that all the extra papers on his desk flew off into a mess that looked like a badly formed tile pattern on the scuffed classroom floor. "Bra, stand up right now—"

Bra turned her head back to face the desk and she placed the pen against one of the papers. Gohan had no idea what he should do, because all she was really doing was writing lines. But at the same time she was in his _lap._ If he tried to bodily move her, she could make this situation very, _very_ bad, and if he didn't get her to stop then… he…

This went beyond the inappropriateness that had, until now, only existed in his mind and Bra's calculating eyes. He just didn't know where to begin to address everything that was wrong with this situation…

"So," Bra didn't move, except for her hand which was moving carelessly fluid across the lined paper. "Should I keep going?"

Gohan felt his heart beating in his ears just as loudly as if he'd had them pressed to his own chest. The half-Saiyan girl on his lap put her free hand on his knee. He felt some of his resolve crumble away like a useless shield he'd been holding onto for too long.

He swallowed, "Detention's _over._"

Bra clicked her pen closed and hopped off him.

Gohan breathed deeply as if some unknown foe had finally stopped compressing his chest tight. His pulse was racing. The blue haired girl bent and gave him one soft kiss on the side of his mouth.

Gohan let out a tiny gasp and Bra let her fingertip trace the spot she'd kissed him in a small feathery light touch of a heart.

"Go." The teacher ordered in a sort of desperate tone and Gohan felt bone-crushing thankfulness when Bra left his office without another word.

The ex-warrior wrung his hands through his course spiky hair.

On the paper, written in glittery pink ink, read:

'_Give in.' _

* * *

**Chapter 2**


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z/GT and all its likeness does not belong to me. No profits are being made off this story.

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**Only Stop When I Say When**

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**Chapter 3**

"Dad!"

Gohan stopped short, unsure if he'd heard correctly. That was, until he picked the short raven haired girl out of the crowd, running up to him in the school hallways.

She'd come from the direction of the cafeteria. That was one place even a Super Saiyan was afraid to go. Adolescents and large quantities of food. It was carnage.

The father blinked and waited for his daughter to catch up.

Pan screeched to a halt. "Dad. Why do you keep your ki so low?" She narrowed her eyebrows. "It's not like anyone here but me can sense it."

"Oh," Gohan said mildly. "Guess it's just a force of habit."

"It made finding you a lot harder! I just managed to spot you…Urgh, Dad," She stuffed her hands in her pockets, "I kinda have a favour to ask…"

Gohan peered curiously at her, his heart skipped the tiniest of beats at being needed by Pan for once. Now that he was actually scrutinizing her, she scowled and fumbled around, folding her arms tightly across her chest. Gohan immediately stopped his staring, not willing to get Pan into a bad mood.

He stared off into the corridor. "Shoot."

Pan's voice came out sort of small and rushed. "Can I borrow some zeni? I kind of have something to do tonight."

"It's a school night." Gohan reminded.

"Yeah, but…" Pan looked completely wretched, like this was something she'd need beaten out of her. There was no sense in forcing her to talk. He'd never done so before, and it wasn't going to start now.

Unlike the teacher, his daughter didn't bother to hide her power level in the sea of people. It had always been easy to tell where Pan was, and she'd never been in any place he didn't approve of, or fighting with excess power, from what he'd sensed…

Her hopeful eyes silently pleaded with him.

Gohan smiled and took a worn wallet out of his pants pocket. "Don't come home too late. Your mom will worry."

Pan grinned as her fingers folded over on the cash. "Thanks Dad."

The words turned over on themselves in his head as he watched the tomboyish girl race back down the locker lined hall.

Because inside he knew, that what he'd said wasn't the whole truth. Just like Pan, he was withholding some important information. The reason why he was hiding his ki and why he didn't bother to mention _he_ didn't worry about his own daughter going off on her own.

He didn't worry about anything right at the moment.

The English teacher walked along the hallways, slipping through the throngs of students. To them, he was just another staff member, but that was just the surface.

Underneath his clean pressed suit jacket and tie, gaped the vast feeling of _excitement._ Perhaps it was because of his Saiyan blood, or his tumultuous upbringing, but a physical challenge had always excited Gohan…

And in this case…

His feet carried him down the familiar hall that led to his office and there was Bra Briefs, leaning against the door without a care in the world. Her cropped tank top shone slightly in the low light.

A whole new battle had just opened up a raw uncharted path in Son Gohan's life.

"So what took you so long?" Bra smirked at him as he stood there, his hands hanging limp at his sides like awkwardly thick branches on a rather thin tree.

"Er," Gohan started out smoothly, "I was eating lunch."

He didn't say anything else, suddenly tongue tied by just looking at her.

She opened the door to his office and looked at him from over her shoulder as they walked inside.

* * *

He watched Bra take the short five steps it took to reach his desk and then she spun and sat down on top of it. Under her thighs were some third year student's papers, but he didn't say anything except:

"I still love my wife."

A muscle in his cheek pumped up and down. Kami, no matter how smart he was, he _still_ managed to say the stupidest things when it came to women…

For her credit, Bra did not do much more than blink. She just stared at him with a level look, twisting a lock of her hair around her index finger.

"And?" Bra prompted. She uncrossed her legs.

"And I…" A bead of sweat rolled down his temple and his turquoise tie felt like it was strangling him. As if she knew the reason for his sudden anxiety, Bra nodded slowly with a baby doll smile until he was nodding along right with her.

"And you?" The Capsule Corp. heiress prompted.

He felt hunted. Casting his senses out in caution, he couldn't find anyone in the hallways outside his office. Even the other language offices seemed abandoned, probably because the lunch period was still not over.

He took two steps closer; the office strangely seemed so much smaller than it really was.

Bra reached out and took the end of his tie with her small hand and _tugged_, making Gohan stand right before her. He looked down at Bra as her fingers smoothed up over the tie and his chest. His skin vibrated and a gasp escaped his lips as she slid the knot of his tie lower. He could finally breathe. It felt so good.

"Say it, Gohan." Bra whispered, her other hand joining in on stroking his chest.

"I…" The words tumbled from his mouth like a secret kept too long. "I still want you."

Bra grabbed at his neatly ironed shirt with both her small fists and teeth bared. The words were dark and self satisfied.

"Then don't stop."

Bra kissed him on the lips with a half open mouth, no messing around. He groaned and her painted fingernails dug into his chest. Gohan was only vaguely surprised at her hidden strength as she pulled him down to meet her.

The teenage half Saiyan's back hit the desk and their ears barely registered it as papers and pens scattered onto the floor. Gohan's awkward arms had been given renewed purpose, his hands slipping over her sides and hips.

"Mmn," Bra hummed into his mouth. She licked at the roof of his mouth and Gohan's stomach fluttered unnaturally. He hadn't felt the tickle of the exciting unknown for so very long.

He ran his hands into that ocean blue hair and Bra bit his lip, slowly rolling the soft flesh in between her teeth. The teacher gasped, no one had ever done that before.

Bra swiftly lifted her booted legs up in a swift movement and locked them around his waist. The metal of his belt buckle rested on top of her pelvis and she raised her hips to press them together tight.

"B-Bra." Gohan hissed and pulled her hair a bit so she would stop assaulting his mouth.

A petulant look stretched over Bra's features. "What?" She asked in an almost rude tone. Gohan's initial response was to reprimand her, but then he became painfully aware of what they were doing.

"Wait, wait." He whispered.

"_Don't. Stop._" Bra ordered. She ripped at his hair but wasn't successful at any result other than Gohan narrowing his eyes.

He roughly shoved her to lay stock still against the desk and held her arms down.

Bra scowled at her teacher from the prone position and _squeezed_ her legs around him, forcing his pelvis to press tightly against her own. She bucked.

"Gohan," Bra moaned and the older man groaned, having lost the upper hand. "I'm…" The point of her toe dragged up his back and Gohan caught it, wrapping his arm around the limb.

Bra flexed and twisted her wrists within Gohan's grasp. A coy expression overcame her face and the heiress let the corner of her mouth curl up. "I'm not wearing any panties today."

A flush stole over Gohan's cheeks. He stared down at his wonton student, heart racing fast. Slowly, ever so slowly, he was bending down, ready to…

The lunch bell rang. The period was over.

Immediately, Bra's legs dropped back down and she wriggled when Gohan didn't let her go. His hands shot back as if she burned him and Bra sat up, combing out her dishevelled hair.

"For a scholar you're a bit of a slow learner, aren't you?" Bra asked, mirth colouring her words just like her rosy cheeks.

Gohan stewed in silence. He found himself sitting in his guest chair just looking at her as she straightened up and then jumped down from the defiled desk.

Somehow he'd expected her to bend down and kiss him, near his ear, and whisper:

"I can wait." She bit his earlobe and Gohan shuddered. "I've been waiting so long for you, _Gohan_—" Bra's voice was strained like she'd been denied something for too long. "But don't make me wait any longer."

She turned to leave and Gohan grabbed her gloved arm.

He searched around in his mind valiantly, thinking about what he could say. He didn't think this affair was finished, not until they both got...

Release.

* * *

There was lip gloss on his shirt.

A half lip-shaped stain right underneath where his tie would normally rest.

He stared at it in self loathing, unable to comprehend the pinkish smudge at first. Ironically he knew how it got there. He knew exactly whose it was, and he knew it might happen again.

Gohan allowed himself a small grimace and tossed the offending article into the wash. He watched until the shirt was completely soaked, spinning around in his home washing machine.

Still, his vast knowledge on the subject didn't make him feel any more at ease.

Lucky for him, the mark had been hidden under his tie, a gift from Videl, for the rest of his classes for the day. If Gohan wanted to be honest with himself, he was certain Bra had done this on purpose.

But it was a good thing Son Gohan wasn't honest with himself.

Over the years, he'd cultivated a sort of… aversion, to problems in the home. Maybe it had to do with growing up with the strongest man on the planet for his father. Goku had craved becoming stronger like a starving man craved food.

Maybe it was because Gohan's mother, who'd once fallen in love because of that very strength, had grown to resent _any_ strong man, including her sons. Maybe it was because he'd married the first and only girl who had not cowered away from him for that reason, or more likely, he'd just gotten very good at hiding who he really was.

"I'm home!" Videl's voice called out from the front foyer, pricking his ears down in the laundry room. "Gohan?"

He dropped another basket of dirty clothes into the whirring and whisking machine, and dust off his hands. Gohan smiled widely at his wife as he entered the room.

"Honey." The teacher said and she returned his smile. "I was just doing some laundry."

Ironically, as he looked Videl up and down she seemed strangely naked because she wasn't weighed down by files.

"_Honey~_" Goten lilted in a very syrupy mock from the stove.

The married couple shared an amused look before Gohan shook his head and went to help his brother with dinner.

* * *

Gohan sat in his bed with a book open in his lap. The bedside lamp was dim, but it didn't matter. The letters on the pages were all jumbled together like black alphabet soup. He couldn't help thinking…

About that _release_.

He wanted it, so badly. The desires and forbidden fantasies piled up in his mind until it was cluttered and no other thoughts could get through the thick mess.

_Bra Briefs._

The name flashed to the front of his brain. Gohan dug his blunt fingernails into his book's hardcover.

It was almost like a game to her. He'd noticed that right away. But what she had said… That she had been waiting? What did _that_ mean?

It had sounded sincere, but on what grounds?

Gohan knew the girl was smart. Waiting to have a dubious encounter with one of her teachers was not the most intelligent idea Bra Briefs could come up with, so it had to be fuelled by some sort of emotion.

Did she simply have a crush on him? Gohan grit his teeth and stared at the page, willing the letters to rearrange themselves into words he could comprehend. It was too late in the game to be thinking about her motives _now_, wasn't it? He'd played along, because of that feeling.

That…

Gohan groaned, and slipped his hand underneath the covers. His other hand went still and lay overtop the book which was now forgotten.

He'd somehow found himself already thrown into the deep end of a conflict and expected to perform. This had happened all his life, and Gohan mildly wondered if it was all his fault.

It wasn't the girl's fault for being desirable or knowing what she wanted. Gohan couldn't even blame Bra even if he tried.

The responsibility was his. He tugged on himself faster at the thought. He had the power to stop. He could stop whenever he wanted.

There was a soft knock on the door.

"Hi," His wife said with a small voice and a smile, angelic blue eyes visible through the crack of the door.

"Videl." Gohan slowed his movements. He looked down and the mess of words on the page made sense.

'_Close the door.'_ It read.

"Hey," Gohan glanced back up and Videl had taken a step into the room. Her braided hair was loose and the half-Saiyan knew she was eyeing his lap and flushed face.

"Close the door." He said and she did. Behind her.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z/GT and all its likeness does not belong to me. No profits are being made off this story.

* * *

**Only Stop When I Say When**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 4**

"Report card day!" Goten chirped from his lazy position on the couch.

It might have seemed strange with all of them living in one house that Chichi didn't visit more often… Considering she lived right next door, it would have been completely possible, not to mention completely annoying.

But the elderly woman kept to herself ever since that day Goku had left for the final time. The final nail in the coffin, he supposed. She ignored Gohan the most and even though there had been many occasions when Videl and even Bulma had called his mother rude, he was in no easy agreement.

Gohan felt a sort of happy detachment about the whole thing. He was _used_ to his father getting up to random activities without inviting anybody else. He was _used_ to his mother comparing him to his father. It didn't make him upset.

He chewed on his toast with gusto, feeling famished from the night before. Well, it wasn't like Goku would invite most people to hurry up and die so they could join him in whatever adventure he got up to, but still.

Watching his father's back was what he'd always done.

"Woah~ho! Look at the diva!" Goten cackled and needled Pan about wearing a pair of attractive earrings – since when had she gotten her ears pierced?

"_You're_ calling _me_ that?" Pan screeched.

Perhaps Chichi visited the house when Gohan and his family left for work and school. Goten never bothered to mention what happened around the house, but it was suspiciously clean for an old twenty-something bachelor being left to his own devices.

"Just who are you trying to _impress?_" Goten's laughter filled his ears. The younger Son male could have stopped Pan from kicking him in the shins if he'd cared. But he had never cared.

Gohan rested his cheek against his palm, watching the girl high kick with some new cute boots he'd never seen before.

* * *

"I barely got my marks in by the due date." Mrs. Rice said, chuckling into her mug of hot coffee.

Gohan smiled at her pleasant tone. "I know that feeling. It felt like I'd never get mine in." In reality, he'd had the documents and numbers all prepared and submitted as soon as he had entered the last midterm test mark into the system.

The language department staff room wasn't anything special, but it had the small comforts that any adult having to deal with teens on a daily basis sorely needed. The department wasn't that big per say, but there were always teachers shifting in and out.

The Spanish teacher, Ms. Tamale shuffled in looking very dishevelled. "Don't tell me the school year's only half over." She bemoaned and poured the rest of the coffee pot into her thermos.

"What do you think, Mr. Son?" Mrs. Rice asked with politeness. "How has the term been treating you?"

"Ah, call me Gohan." He stalled, and took a long sip of his cup of tea.

The woman blushed. Gohan's mouth twisted behind his cup.

"Can we expect you back next year?" Tamale was chewing through a bagel with exceptional speed. "Or have you had enough?"

They all chuckled happily at the taunt but Gohan couldn't help the truth springing to the front of his mind.

The English teacher finished his cup and picked up his book bag at the foot of his chair. Gohan saluted the women on his way out.

When his contract ended with the school year, he wasn't coming back here.

* * *

As luck would have it, Gohan sat in his last period class of the day with Bra Briefs' eyes upon him. Somehow he felt like he was sixteen again, wanting to squirm under her gaze, as if she knew who he'd been thinking about when he was with his wife last night.

It wasn't even as though he loved her. Sure, he loved every single person he'd grown up with or the youngsters he'd watched in turn… but he _knew_ this wasn't about love. That's what made it all the more difficult to make a decision on where he stood on the subject.

On one hand, it was absolutely wrong to lie to his family. Even if they weren't asking him the questions didn't mean he wasn't withholding the sordid truth.

On the other, he didn't feel anything more than a sense of adventure and, guiltily, a thrilling sense of risk. Hell, Bra was the kid daughter of Bulma and _Vegeta_. Trunks was her _brother_.

He didn't have any future plans involving her and she didn't mean much to him. But even still…

Deep down, Gohan knew the effects of this affair – was it a crime if they'd only kissed? – had the power to make or break his future.

So why didn't he feel all that compelled to worry?

This wasn't a battle to the death. This was a mistake in everyday life.

Maybe that was it, Gohan thought idly, watching the grimacing faces of his students. This issue was so plebeian, so everyday life of the average human that it didn't even register on his scale of 'Bad Things That Need Immediate Remediation.'

Bra wasn't a foe he could simply win against in a battle and then fly home for dinner. Neither were his feelings. He had to live with both, every day.

He had the final midterm marks printed out and neatly taped on one corner of his desk. The spiky haired man dusted it off a bit before he started calling his students down in groups.

He smiled at Cabinetta. She'd greatly improved since that first mark and the young girl grinned back at him shyly, colour growing on her cheeks.

"I'm proud of you." He said, truthfully feeling like he'd made her day.

When the students finally emptied out, Gohan packed up his belongings and locked the classroom door.

"Teach." Bra stood there, leaning against a random locker and inspecting her nails. Straggling students still lagged about, and the hairs on the back of Gohan's neck stood on end.

"Ms. Briefs." He said in his best professional manner. It was pretty impressive.

Bra raised an eyebrow. "I've got a question about my grade."

"You've got great marks. There's no need to talk to me, unless you stayed here for congratulations."

Her eyes narrowed at the dismissal. "As my _teacher,_ I think you should at least hear out my concerns."

Gohan's mouth became a thin line. He was looking her up and down, which was horrible because he knew he shouldn't. "My concern is that you're here instead of going out on a great afternoon. Celebrate your success, you deserve it."

He walked briskly, moving down the hallway at speed normally reserved for retreating. Gohan didn't like to think of this as running away, but sweat beaded underneath his collar anyway because Bra kept up with him, stride for stride.

"There won't _be_ a celebration if we don't go to your office and talk this through." She was walking next to him and tilted her head to snicker.

His feet thundered faster down the locker lined halls and the teacher swallowed, tugging at his collar. Bra was running right behind him.

The half Saiyan man reached out and grabbed the handle to his office door, but Bra slapped her gloved hand down on the glass that bore his name. He looked at her fingernails and noticed only one of them was painted.

"Let's just…" The blue haired girl breathed in and out rapidly, "_Please._"

His hand left its tight position on the doorknob and he placed it gently over her smaller one.

Bra rubbed at her own neck which was slightly flushed and grinned, this time with no ulterior motive glossing those lips. "Yeah?"

Gohan just stared at their hands on the frosted glass.

"What are you doing to me?" He asked quietly, almost certain the words didn't escape his lips.

The Briefs girl reached up with her other hand and tugged him so that they were looking each other in the eyes. Without warning, Bra went up on her tip toes and when that wasn't enough – she floated a little – and Gohan gasped as she gave him a chaste kiss on the lips.

He caught the back of her head and threaded his fingers through the ocean blue hair. He kissed her back and anyone could have walked down the hallway at any minute.

Gohan's hand fumbled and twisted the doorknob to let them inside.

Almost immediately, Gohan was pushed inside – were all the women in his life so aggressive? – and his tie pulled off. His mind flashed back to the previous encounter and how short it had been.

Gohan couldn't allow this to go on for too long. He had the power to stop after all.

Bra was much shorter, so he picked her up, their mouths level with each other. His hands squeezed at her hips but through the dizzying thrum of blood through his ears, he remembered to be gentle. His heart rate and ki nosedived as he forced himself into calm.

He supposed Bra felt the difference because her hands in his hair tightened. "Don't treat me like I'm weak." She said into his mouth.

"I'm not _that_ kind of princess."

They twisted and turned and Gohan let himself be moulded up against the wall. Bra had her feet planted on the ground and wouldn't budge. The coolness of his belt buckle was pressing into her bare midriff. One of his elbows was jutting into his office palm tree, but he could care less.

Bra ripped out his belt and unzipped his pants. Her hand took hold of him and stroked in a confident if a bit frenzied manner. The half Saiyan man groaned and wrapped his larger hand around hers. He valiantly tried to slow the pace down, but Bra increased the pressure.

"I won't stop," Bra whispered with defiance into his chest and she slid down to her knees to use her mouth.

Gohan couldn't help it. His poor plant lost half of its leaves in his grip.

Her head moved up and down, glossed lips tight. Bra's hands curled around the backs of his knees and she tugged as if trying to get him to move. But he couldn't. He'd never done that before.

Bra stilled. Gohan watched her, red mouth on top of him. Bra peered up at him through her bangs, twisting his mind around her finger like a lock of hair.

Another groan left his mouth and his hips bucked forward. It felt so _good_, but he was very nearly afraid he'd jammed himself too far. Bra moaned around him and her fingers dug into his khaki pant legs with vigour.

Gohan let loose, and pumped himself into her mouth until the pressure and slick heat was too much for him.

"B-R-A-Aah…" He caught himself and shuddered.

Gohan couldn't bear to look down as he slid out of her bruised mouth. She sucked gently on the head when it passed her lips and a thin delicate line of fluid was the only thing that connected them before he immediately shoved himself back into his stifling and itchy pants.

There was a short rap on the frosted glass portion of his door.

"Mr. Son?"

The voice of his co-worker, Mrs. Rice, was like a thousand icicles had just fallen down on him. "Are you alright?"

"Y-Yes." Gohan's voice sounded extremely loud to his own ears. "Report card day, you know." A nervous kind of high pitched laugh escaped his mouth. "It finally caught up with me."

Bra stood up and wiped the side of her bottom lip with a finger, the only one that had been painted.

He held up his own index finger to her lips, intent on keeping her silent. Bra looked down almost cross eyed at the offending finger then back up with a wicked look. She stuck her tongue out and licked it, from base to tip and then sucked on it gently like a parody of before.

Gohan had to slam his other palm across his own mouth to muffle a sudden bout of coughs and sputters.

"Well don't stay cooped up in there all afternoon." The woman advised with cheer and finally walked away.

He didn't dare to breathe out the lungful of air that was compressing his chest. Bra pulled him down for a kiss on her swollen mouth and then guided his finger underneath her skirt.

She really wasn't wearing any panties.

Gohan shivered from the remnants of pleasure and horrifyingly – risky excitement – as he discovered her already slick and inviting. He told himself he should stop. Gohan chanted it in his head. It was the only thing he thought even while his finger slipped against her faster and faster.

He didn't let himself slide his whole finger inside of her, even when she tore a button from his shirt with her teeth and groaned, "M-More…"

Bra's chest was crushed against him and she breathed in an out fast, making small appreciative noises that should have stopped him. Gohan held her tightly and secretly relished in feeling her hot breaths through the sticky cotton of his starched shirt.

Finally she shuddered violently against him. When her shaking body came to rest, he let go of her and stopped.

Gohan took a few deep breaths. He couldn't look her in the eyes right now, but Bra was already pulling down her skirt and combing a hand through her hair.

"Don't—" The abrupt warning came out of his mouth and they were both surprised by it. Gohan looked at his balding plant with an unsettled feeling.

"Relax, Teach. I won't say anything." Bra said. She placed her finger to her lips. "It's always been our secret."

He watched her leave the office and the feeling in his gut intensified.

He'd been about to say _'Don't go.'_

* * *

Gohan grimaced when he opened the front door and found the house in complete darkness. No one was home. The least Goten could have done was left a light on.

He flicked on some lamps before even thinking about taking his coat off. When he did, his hand immediately went to a small spot on his shirt, his fingertip brushing the place where there was a missing button.

Nothing prepared him for having Pan slam through the door only a few minutes after him.

Perturbed, Gohan barely got to put down his book bag and a good look at his daughter before she had flashed up to her room in a burst of ki and shut her bedroom door with a thunderous crash.

He stopped short, his hand resting lightly on a chair at the kitchen table. Would Pan even want him to try?

Gohan climbed the stairs anyway.

Pan was sobbing uncontrollably into her pillow.

The emotional teen's father walked to her bedside, his arms hanging awkwardly, like the trunk on an elephant's face.

"Pan?"

Kami, this was Videl's area of parenting.

Not that both of them were outstanding at being doting parents. Now that he thought about it, back when Pan had just been born Chichi had all but taken over the household. Then at toddler age, Goku had scooped the little quarter Saiyan up for training.

"She's such a _slut!_" Pan suddenly raged, and a lamp exploded from the power spike.

Startled, Gohan sat down on a dinosaur shaped beanbag chair.

"Who?" He asked in a careful voice as he rubbed her shoulder. The fact that she let him was proof enough his daughter had truly been disturbed.

"H-Her." Pan grit her teeth and turned her red-eyed glare to her father. "_Bra Briefs._"

Gohan's blood ran cold.

"She was k-kissing…" Pan let out a savage growl and her pillow ripped in two.

Gohan watched her with a sort of detached feeling. It kind of reminded him of taking a critical hit; one that knocks you down so hard it's impossible to move, impossible to speak, only leaving room enough to think: _'This is the end.'_

Fresh tears spilled down Pan's cheeks and she buried her face in her hands, strangely free of those fingerless gloves now.

"She made out with Desker Chairs!" She cried.

"W..What?" The word ghosted out like his spirit leaving his body.

Pan nodded, as though her father's voice had finally gained some sort of quality that actually got through. "And the worst part is," She scrubbed at her face and then removed those girlish earrings Goten had been bothering her about.

"I actually thought he liked me…"

"Desker?" Gohan asked again.

His daughter had the decency to blush. "I… I know he's seventeen, but that's not so much of a difference. I mean, well, he's not a bad guy. It's that _Bra._" She bared her teeth.

"It's not fair. She's got money and looks and all the friends she could ever need." Pan brought her feet up and hugged her knees. "But _everyone _knows how many times she's been around the block. Girls like that… they'll get what they deserve!"

Gohan stilled and the side of his jaw clenched uncomfortably. He couldn't tell what was more guilt-ridden; the feeling of being protective of Bra's reputation or the fact that a few seconds ago he'd been thinking how to save his own skin.

"So what do you think then?" He asked slowly. "Are the men who like her just victims?"

"They're not _men_, Dad." Pan snorted. Her nose was running and he handed her a tissue from her dresser with one numb hand.

"They're just stupid boys who don't know any better."


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z/GT and all its likeness does not belong to me. No profits are being made off this story.

* * *

**Only Stop When I Say When**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 5**

_Boys._

_Stupid boys who don't know any better._

Gohan paced his bedroom, unsure whether to be angry or fearful about his situation. Even if his daughter hadn't been talking about him specifically, he'd felt threatened all the same.

A stupid boy.

No, he _wasn't._

Gohan felt an inexplicable surge of power. He took the bedside clock radio and tossed it out the open window. It sped away with deadly precision. If anyone had been watching, they'd see it blast through three mountains before it stopped.

"I know you're upset, Gohan," Videl told him seriously, sitting at her vanity. "But throwing our clock radio out the window isn't going to un-break our daughter's heart…"

He reigned in the annoyed frustration causing his ki to spike. "Sorry, I'll make sure to find the old one out of the storage capsules. I'm sure it still works."

Videl sighed and shot an amused smile at him. "You're really torn up about this, aren't you? If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were remembering your own first love."

Gohan paused in his nervous tidying. He stared at his hands in some worry. It was the same thing his mother did. He closed his eyes, hands curling into fists, and made sure the timber of his voice didn't betray him like his body and mind had.

"I can't say I am. My first love was you."

To his credit, Videl blushed. She smoothed some of her file folders down over her cosmetics, a satisfied smile firmly stretched over her lips.

Gohan didn't like knowing that she felt smug. Maybe there would have been something to be smug about before he'd returned to Orange Star. But now it was just a smile based on an empty promise.

What was the point of being happy about being someone's first love?

Gohan thought right then, in a crazy undiluted moment, that he'd straight out lied. He couldn't have ever truly loved Videl if he'd so easily been swayed by a teen girl, of all people. The sudden conclusion made his palms sweaty in unease. What was he _doing_, talking himself out of feelings he'd had long before Bra had ever come along?

But what if it happened again?

He wasn't going back to Orange Star, but if he were to repeat history with a new girl at another job, or even worse, let his deviance seep into his social life…

It had to stop.

"You know, I was thinking about taking Pan over to Dad's new hotel." Videl said as if she'd already decided. "It could be just us two. I don't ever get to see her, what with the new firm… Plus, she's probably sick of boys right now. We could go have some fun and relax this weekend."

Gohan thought about the tear tracks on his daughter's cheeks and nodded.

"Make her forget all about it."

* * *

Pan had decided to stay home sick all week.

Which was driving Goten up the wall.

Gohan watched. He could almost see the gears literally turning in Goten's head as he tried to figure out how to get the house all to himself again.

More specifically, the couch.

Pan put up her purple socked feet on the coffee table where Goten usually did, dinosaur patterned blanket tucked under her chin.

"You're not sick," Goten complained loudly. "You're just rejected!"

"SHUT UP!" Pan threw a spoonful of cereal at the older Son who didn't even bother to dodge it.

"Whatever, Pan!" There was a colourful bunch of sugary loops stuck to Goten's cheek. "Come on. Go up to your room and cry your eyes out there! I have shows to watch!"

The girl had red-rimmed eyed from her crying fests the night before which only served to make her glare more potent. "There's nothing on except cartoons and the news. What are _you_ planning to watch?"

Gohan coughed into his hand, knowing well enough that Goten still watched the cartoons when he wasn't talking up his minutes on the cell phone.

"None of your business," Goten waved off. "Damn, I hope all the girls I've dumped over the years didn't look half as bad as you do right now."

Pan looked about ready to send a kamehameha right into his head.

"Goten," Videl warned as she entered the room. She was trying to stuff five folders into a too-small purse. "Do you have a spare capsule? I'm going to need to pick up some more before the weekend…"

Gohan plucked the now empty cereal bowl from his daughter's hands and his brother handed Videl a number 38 capsule.

The woman flipped her long braid over her shoulder to bend down and put her shoes on. "Remember Pan, you can call Grandma at anytime… Gohan, she's getting even more senile I think. I saw her shooting at birds through her kitchen window the last time I walked around the house."

"Oh no, hunting is just one of her hobbies." The school teacher answered calmly.

"I remember that," Goten had a faraway look on his face, patting his stomach. "One day I asked for a wings night and mom delivered! Anyway, I'm going out."

The three adults grabbed their coats and Gohan shut the door.

As soon as they were gone, Pan threw off the blanket, already dressed underneath in her typical jeans, chain, and short red t-shirt. She made a determined face as she tied the bright orange bandana onto her head.

"I can take care of myself."

* * *

He was going to put a stop to this.

The best way he knew how to get a teenager to listen to him was very easy in retrospect. It worked on all types of people, actually. All he had to do was pretend to give her what she wanted.

Gohan stalked through the hallway, feeling strangely free now that he knew his daughter was tucked away at home. It didn't make him feel any ibetter/i, but freedom rarely satisfied any warrior.

Even acting as a scholar, Gohan still had that basic need. The one that propelled him forward to find a conflict and immerse himself in it, and to feel the rush of blood all the way to the tips of his toes at the thought of finding that same powerful release.

He found his target easily. Bra was hanging around with a few older students near the north stairwell. It was where all the shining stars of Orange Star seemed to congregate. Gohan seemed to recall how his own wife and her friends used to hold court there.

There had always been similarities he'd ignored. Both Bra and Videl came with comparable qualities; A similar rich family syndrome, the need to shine, the tendency to dominate the boys around her, and the same beautiful blue eyes.

He watched her twist a coy finger into Desker Chairs' baggy t-shirt and something awful rolled around in his stomach. It was a very unpleasant sensation. He added a big helping of Bra's self entitlement to the list of similarities.

"Ms. Briefs." He announced and the group of kids looked up at him in irritation. "Detention."

Her eyes lit up.

* * *

Gohan had only just closed the office door behind him before Bra was on him – or he was on her – he didn't know.

He replayed the words he had to tell her even as his lips found soft neck. Bra gripped tightly at his hair and gasped quietly until Gohan found himself slumped in the guest chair and teen-aged girl in his lap.

Bra's hands were everywhere and _not enough_ and he gripped her thighs on either side of him on the hideous orange tweed arm chair. It creaked back until it hit the wall and the office plant rocked precariously around, but not falling over.

The pressure in his lower abdomen was hot and uncomfortable and _forbidden_. His skin buzzed and crackled underneath the surface with sensitivity so great, he could feel the flimsy cotton of Bra's underwear even through his thick clothes.

This was wrong. It had to stop. It was still the middle of the day even, and he had brought her here for a purpose…

"Take me home, Gohan." Bra's voice was low and gravelly and for a brief moment Gohan remembered Vegeta. Her fingers clutched at him so tight he could feel her desperation. "If you flew us during lunch we could get there so fast…"

Gohan felt his heart flop. "I.. Bra, I _can't._"

"_Please._" She whispered, so plain-faced and voice strained he couldn't stand to look at her. "I want to feel what it's like – an honest night in a bed with you. We'll never get enough time and privacy unless we get away from here!"

He closed his eyes instead and found his way inside her mouth, kissing her so she wouldn't ask him again.

She bucked against him, and he groaned low in his throat. Her skirt had ridden up to sit on her hips in red waves of fabric and as she rubbed against his still-clothed arousal, the sight of plain cotton panties where they hadn't been before shot a rush of blood and adrenaline throughout Gohan's body.

Bra caught him looking and smirked just a little, her finger already crooked under one side of the tiny cotton things. She looked really pleased with herself and her other hand strayed to his pants zipper.

The temptation was just underneath his fingertips but he had to stop.

Suddenly the answer came to him.

"Bra…" He breathed out low and she looked up at him through those sea-blue bangs. He reached out and stilled her movements, one hand on her hip and one gently holding her chin.

"This weekend. The house will be empty." He slipped the glasses from his nose and stared deeply at her, willing Bra to understand. "Let's finish what we started."

* * *

He needed Goten gone.

The scenic tree covered mountains whisked by underneath as Gohan drove home.

How was he going to manage that? Gohan's little brother became a complete leech when he wasn't hanging off the end of his cell phone, talking to the latest girlfriend—

Of course. Gohan frowned in a determined sort of manner and adjusted his glasses.

As soon as he arrived home and touched down, the half Saiyan got out of the modest capsule car he used and let it implode back into its small container. Pan preferred flying and he would have too, but wind didn't help one's appearance much. Anyway, it seemed like nowadays there were no places to get to that fast.

He bypassed the front door and walked around the dome wall of their home before going up the side path. Gohan felt a sudden sense of nostalgia he hadn't been expecting from just going up the steps to his childhood home.

The lights were on inside and he could smell the faint earthy scent of browning onions and peeled potatoes. He knocked on the door and then let himself in.

"Mom?" He called out.

The foyer was tidy as ever and he toed off his work shoes onto the small mat at the side of the door.

"Goten, is that you?" Chichi walked out from the kitchen, looking down at her mug as she stirred some hot drink. He took a good look, noticing the lines under her eyes and around her mouth the most.

"Hey, no." Gohan laughed a little and scratched the back of his head when her head lifted in surprise.

"Gohan." She said. "Well you've finally come to see your mother, have you!"

The scolding voice fizzled around in his brain, irritating him. "Yes…" He bit out, then realized getting on his mother's bad side was inevitable.

Gohan walked forward and put a hand on the shorter woman's shoulder, guiding her back into the brightly lit kitchen.

"But I just stopped by to talk to you about Goten!" The half Saiyan started in a bright tone.

Chichi was frowning. "Just stopped by, hm? _To talk._"

Gohan had a momentary internal need to wring his hands around something. His mother was _always_ suspicious. Why couldn't she just let people be who they really were without questioning them?

Chichi tugged out a chair from the middle of the table, not the head, and gestured for him to sit down before she walked around it and drew a long sip from her mug by the sudsy sink.

Gohan sighed, knowing instinctively she wouldn't treat this like a conversation between adults. His feet planted firmly on the floor and hands calmly resting atop the table, he got down to business.

"Yes about Goten… Well, he's been restless and lazy at the same time lately. He needs to get out into the world, maybe…" And here was the kicker, "Maybe find a wife of his own…"

Chichi snorted. The sound was loud in the quiet house and very gruff compared to Gohan's own placating words.

"Right. Gohan, I don't think a wife is what Goten wants, exactly…" She smirked and looked to her left. "I'm old, not _blind._"

Gohan blinked, not really understanding what she was getting at. But that didn't matter, he had to get her and Goten out of the house for the weekend and he needed to do it _now_.

"Mom…You haven't been to the city since…" He trailed off and made sure to soften the look of his eyes. Gohan reached out from his seat and placed one large hand atop his mother's pair folded around her mug. They were warm and small.

"A little trip out could do you both some good."

"I suppose so…" Chichi answered wearily, but Gohan could still hear the hard edges that naturally came to her voice. She was so used to screaming and yelling to get her way, it was probably disconcerting to be told to relax because someone cared.

"Let me get this straight, Gohan. You want me to take Goten out to the city to find him a wife and to get myself out of the house?"

Well, not in those exact words, but… Gohan lifted his eyebrows to try and redirect the situation but not before Chichi ploughed on.

"The nerve! How would you think that would make either of us happy!" She threw her hands up in aggravation and started pacing in that nervous angry manner that made Gohan's knee start to bounce up and down in anxiety.

"For shame!" She yelled. "You hardly know your own family!"

"Mom!" Gohan shouted and then his hand shot up to adjust his glasses once, twice, thrice— "Calm down. Okay… You got me." He laughed lightly and waved his hand. "I know I can't keep any secrets from you."

Chichi's eyebrows were furrowed menacingly but she nodded as if she was satisfied she'd figured out his devious plans.

The scholar smiled tightly and looked down. "The _real_ reason why I suggested it… well, you'll think I'm being corny."

One of those jet black eyebrows lifted up from their defensive position. Chichi stared at him as though all his secrets were bared for her to read without even the bat of an eye. He hated how she could do this. Yes, he loved his mother with all his heart. But he hated the way she wrung a person's motives around in her hands like a dishrag, filth and dirt colouring good intentions like murky water.

Gohan took a deep breath. "I have a secret weekend getaway planned for Videl and I. We're going to go to Mr. Satan's new hotel and have a kind of early anniversary vacation."

Chichi's eyes immediately softened and her stern posture went limp like a noodle. "Ohh," She breathed, a smile crawling over her mouth. "Why didn't you say so? My Gohan… so sneaky. It's nice to see those awful deviant skills being put to good use once in a while."

Each word was like another blow from an annoying hammer into the back of his skull. A headache would likely persist all through the night for him, Gohan knew, but he kept his benign demeanour in check, happy to have won his mother over.

"But what about Pan?"

Gohan was prepared for that. "Wellll, you know how she can be. She heard about my plan and immediately wanted to go to her granddad's hotel as well. So I caved. She's coming along, but she'll spend some time with Hercule instead…" He trailed off into amused chuckles.

"It sounds like a lot of fun…" Chichi said wistfully. "I'm surprised Goten didn't want to tag along, I certainly like the idea…"

Alarms went off in Gohan's head, realizing his mother was trying to make a family trip out of it.

He burst into full out laughter. He hoped it didn't sound too contrived. Chichi looked taken aback.

"If I brought you two along as well it wouldn't be that much of a surprise. You and Goten _are_ quite the talkers you know!"

The older woman looked put off by his annoying laughter but Gohan knew he had a valid point.

"I'm just asking it as a favour, Mom. Take Goten off my hands this weekend and enjoy the city. We can have a family outing next time. Perhaps a picnic at the foot of the mountain? Like old times!"

"I'll hold you to that." Chichi said matter of factly and dumped the rest of her mug's contents into the sink. Gohan watched her go back to the stove, deftly managing her pot's heavy lid with one hand and stirring the contents with the other. "It _has_ been a while since I've been shopping for some new clothes. And Goten has just the best advice when it comes to where to shop. A cold snap will be just around the corner you know, I can feel it!"

He missed her, he did. But she needed her niche more than she ever needed him and that's why he needed to do this.

A serene smile overtook his lips as he stood and pushed the chair back into place.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z/GT and all its likeness does not belong to me. No profits are being made off this story.

* * *

**Only Stop When I Say When**

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* * *

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**Chapter 6**

_Thank Kami it's Friday._

That seemed to be the general sentiment that permeated the large classroom. His students were restless and Gohan saw a paper plane take to the air out of the corner of his eye.

Gohan didn't look up from his planner. He was seated at the front teacher's desk making a few schedule notes here and there. The minutes of this particular day were crawling by slowly, like the sluggish slip of congealed blood from an already closed over wound.

It _hurt_; this waiting.

There was a buzzing underneath his skin like fissures crackling outwards on a sheet of ice but ironically he felt hot under the collar. Remotely, Gohan knew he'd felt like this before and knew the reason why, but it didn't make the situation any more comfortable to bear.

Someone whipped a wad of gum wrapped in worksheet paper across the room and it sailed directly past Gohan's ear to splat against the dusty green chalkboard. The faint scent of watermelon scent still lingered.

The lead of his pencil broke off in an almost dramatic representation of his last nerve.

"Alright." He said calmly as he looked up. The teacher adjusted his glasses, and the students froze.

Bra Brief's arm was outstretched. On her desk were a few more torn up pieces of the assignment sheet and she was chewing another piece of gum.

What was he supposed to do with her? Now and after the weekend… what would happen?

Gohan stared, knowing his silence could do far more to bring order to the room than any command would. He watched Bra put her arm down and resume looking innocently guilty, looking _beautiful_, and just not caring.

This would end.

It had to.

He'd had his fun, _would_ give Bra what she wanted this weekend, and then it would be over. Fun wasn't something that lasted. The transient value to those simple feelings and actions… that's what made it what it was.

If it failed to stop then he couldn't very well think of the situation as 'fun' anymore, could he? So by that conclusion, it was very likely that it would stop.

He'd just go back to being a scholar, and Bra would go on to her next grade. The year would end with things back to normal and then another year would start off normally and then the next would be just as normal as the one before…

The few genuinely good students were working diligently on their sheets now because he was watching everyone with a keen eye. The few students who didn't want to bother, because it was _Friday,_ just slacked off more discreetly.

He let his eyes pass over Bra once more, noticing in the quick glance the way her skinny legs were crossed at the ankle and her thin shoulders were swept by long sea blue locks. He should have seen just that, or maybe something more – like the teen daughter of his family friends, or an underage student who needed guidance and not enabling.

There were lots of things he choice to notice and not notice.

Gohan definitely noticed the way her skirt was always too short, and how a number of boys in the class were staring at it when she uncrossed her legs and changed position.

Gohan grit his teeth just a little, and then bit his bottom lip. Tapping the schedule under his hand with the broken pencil he couldn't help feeling frustrated at this.

Why did she have to encourage them?

The words his daughter had yelled at him rang loudly in his head.

Bra might have been more… _adult_-_like_ that he was comfortable with, but that didn't mean she was a bad person. She was a good girl in his eyes, a little wild, but he'd grown up in a wild environment too so it didn't seem so strange.

On some level, Gohan even thought that maybe this was helping her. It was better than taking up with some awful idiot boys who just thought about sex and drugs instead of their futures. Now that Bra had fixated herself on him, well, wasn't he the better choice? He was the adult, and had years of experience. He wasn't going to _hurt_ her. He'd take care of her like she was his.

His…

His what, exactly?

Gohan ground the butt of the dull pencil into the page in front of him. Bra Briefs was known as something of a loose girl at Orange Star. Even Pan thought of her as a slut, and that wasn't very _fair_ in Gohan's opinion. A girl could have multiple boyfriends and not be promiscuous. He wasn't some backward country bumpkin who listened to the ideals of his high strung mother about matters of propriety between men and women.

Gohan was a modern man.

But it's not like he would date her himself; become a legitimate couple; make her an honest girl. So what is all this?

It wasn't his fault that he thought, maybe, he could teach Bra how to clean up her act a little. After this ended, Bra could be a better person – return to being an innocent, cute girl. Because Gohan wasn't going to take her down a road that led to a dead end future and other sordid things like that.

He'd give Bra her curiosity's end. Once she got it, there was no reason she'd continue on in that manner. It wasn't like Gohan was going to do that, and it figured a certain amount that he'd rubbed off on her a little bit by now.

A flash of hotness flared up under his ribcage and Gohan grimaced. The minutes were going by at a snail's pace.

When the bell finally rang, he didn't meet with her. He went straight home.

* * *

Bright and early Saturday morning, Videl and Pan were up and having a hot breakfast at the kitchen table.

They both looked lively and excited and Gohan's heart warmed to see them both so happy.

"It's been a while since I've left for the city for some relaxation." Videl exclaimed, slipping on her boots while her husband lined up their bags at the door.

"You're only going for the weekend, why do you need so many things?" Gohan asked, picking up two more pieces of luggage.

"Yeeeah," Goten said as he walked into the room. "You're going over to Satan's. He'll probably have more of everything and better quality!"

"Well, it's not like it takes up much room, does it?" Pan answered peevishly and tossed a couple capsules at the lined up bags. A few pops later and the bags were neatly stored away.

Gohan scooped up the little capsules that had the Capsule Corp. logo along with series number printed on them in bright blue. He gave them a slight frown before he placed them in his daughter's hand.

Goten had run out of capsules so he just slung his own simple backpack across his shoulder.

"And where are _you_ off to?" Gohan asked with a little smile.

The younger Son male shrugged, his voice came out in falsetto. "Oh you know, girl's day with Mommy."

Pan snickered in the corner as she wrestled with her bandana. "Are you gonna braid each other's hair and give makeovers?"

Goten made a funny face at her. "Sorry, but I only do that with Trunks."

Pan's face turned red and she looked torn from the mental images that line had conjured. Goten just waved and flounced out the door, probably up the path towards Chichi's house to pick her up.

Videl just chuckled and then clucked her tongue. "Okay, it's getting late. Let's get going. Your Grandpa misses you and he said he has a little surprise…"

"Moooom…" Pan whined, and Gohan followed his family out the front door.

The mother and daughter got into Videl's new purple air car. The long haired woman rolled down the window and Gohan came to bend down beside it.

He smiled and leant in through the opening, to peck his wife on the cheek. "Take care, you two."

The car lifted off with a low vacuuming sound and then shot off towards the west.

A jet plane lifted out of the house up the path and Gohan could tell it was his mother piloting as it blast off at a phenomenal speed towards the city.

Gohan stood on the front lawn, which technically wasn't really just a lawn since they lived on the side of a mountain, until the vehicles were just little specks in the sky.

_Would they all leave me if they knew?_

He supposed the question was one he should have asked himself in the beginning. Maybe he _had_, but just didn't remember. All that mattered now was that it _was_ going to happen. It had to.

He'd wanted it to happen the moment Bra's blue eyes landed on him in that classroom.

If it didn't happen, then who was he and what had he been doing up until this point?

If it didn't happen, then all of this wouldn't stop.

* * *

She was late.

Of course, he hadn't expected her to arrive bright and early on a Saturday morning.

Gohan wasn't even sure if this was the sort of thing he could pull off on a normal day, let alone the way he felt at the moment; like there was a jumble of nerves flopping around in his stomach. That's why it was late evening now and he'd had a few glasses of something warm to relax.

No, she'd obviously gone out with friends beforehand. Bra's cheeks were flushed and she had a little sparkle smeared over her eyes and in her hair like she'd danced around in glitter.

He spied her from the kitchen window standing before she'd even thought to start knocking or ringing the bell.

She was typing on her cell phone, looking bored, and even a little spoilt, standing on their meagre doorstep. He watched her wipe the soles of her shoes off on the welcome mat for the third time, knowing she probably hated the country life compared to the completely automated technology-ridden life that came along with being a Briefs.

Bra Briefs.

Gohan took a shallow breath. There wasn't much room in his chest for nervous air. Guilt and excitement filled him to the brim, swimming around like colourful swirls made of the same stuff as dreams and nightmares.

He tried to project an air of disinterest as the door opened. "Bra!" He said cheerfully. "I'm glad you found the place alright, it's a bit out of the way."

Gohan couldn't help that last bit from slipping out, his hand coming up to rub the back of his head in slight embarrassment.

"But of course, Teach." The teenage girl just cocked her head and gave him an innocent look. "I've been here before, after all."

"Hm," Gohan frowned, remembering the various times she'd visited as Bulma and Vegeta's daughter.

The thought of her as that so-young girl almost made him feel nauseous but at the same time a dangerous flutter in his stomach came alive knowing the fact that he'd _seen_ how grown up she was now. He stared down at her, contemplating, and long moments crawled by enough to make even the smug girl before him start to shift under his shadow.

The scholar reached out and touched his fingertips to her pale smooth cheek. She let out a slight gasp. So, _both_ of their skin was burning to the touch. The thought made his heart beat faster.

He trailed his fingers lower, touching her collarbone exposed in her short tube top.

"Better come inside. There's civilization in here."

Bra grinned and shut her cell phone off.

* * *

And just like that they were on each other.

It was different, so different, because it wasn't a small office where they had to be quiet. There wasn't any cramped desk to back up into, and no potted plant, and no notes or detention or lipstick just underneath his tie.

There was no frustration, except there_ was._

Bra was clawing at his chest, trying to pry away his buttoned shirt like it was the thin sheets of a homework assignment.

"Gohan," She said in a low voice. It commanded him to pick her up with the backs of her upper thighs and he held her close to him, their noses touching. "You're wearing entirely too much."

The teacher didn't disagree. It felt like he was being burnt alive from the inside out, every fibre that touched his skin was like a pinprick scratch turning white and then a hot red.

He focussed on the bare skin in his hands. Bra always seemed to like to show off this one part best, the small strip of flesh on each leg that appeared at the top of her thighs and just below her short skirt.

It was entirely too tempting. No wonder her reputation had been slightly less than gold.

"I think maybe you wear a bit too little." He replied in a breathless sort of manner that wasn't very conducive to a good teacher but as long as he imparted the thought he was sure it would do some good.

Bra just grinned evilly. "Not _yet_."

Gohan held her as she let go of his shoulders and pulled her top right off, tossing it so that it fell somewhere on the couch that Goten loved to veg out on.

Gohan nearly groaned at the sight of her, feeling the blood in his lower region pulse fiercely. She was built very much like Videl had been when they'd been sixteen, small swells and pink nipples.

He couldn't help it. Gohan slammed her against the hallway wall and sucked one into his mouth.

The Briefs girl made a sound of surprise and then, as Gohan ground his hips against her trapped body, she moaned long and loud.

"O-Oh, Gohan, it's…" She said incoherently. "_Teach—_"

A sort of vibrating sensation filled his chest and head as he rocked against her again and again, feeling his sensitive length strain against his cotton slacks. The rough dry slip of bodies made him dizzy with arousal. He pressed the hardness against her tightly, crushing her against the wall so hard the photograph frames lining the hall rattled.

"_Yes,_" Bra rasped out. Her chest was rapidly becoming decorated with red welts from Gohan's attention. "Don't stop. Please-don't-stop—"

"Bra, let's—" He gasped out between their frantic kisses, "go to the bed."

He felt relief but also the pressure and ache for release as he eased his weight off her and carried the younger girl up the stairs.

As soon as they entered the master bedroom, Bra wiggled until he let her slide down from his arms. She did not waste time and pushed down her skirt so it fell in a tiny pile of red waves on the floor.

Gohan could feel the power in her feminine hands as she grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and ripped it open, all the buttons flying across the room like wads of gum in a restless classroom.

He almost felt like a super hero, like Great Saiyaman all over again, standing there with her wearing just those tiny panties and her hands on his bare chest, looking up at him like she was naive.

He was going to make this good for her, and give her what she wanted, and afterwards, they'd both be better for it. Because Bra needed someone to guide her to be a more responsible girl, and Gohan was her teacher, even if it was only for a little while, and it was important to teach her everything he knew.

She grabbed his hands and pulled him towards the mattress. She fell onto her back and Gohan tried hard not to fall on top, but then again, what else did he want to do?

He groaned, loving the way her compact body fit under his.

"Hey Teach," Bra flirted up at him. Her cheeks were flushed and voice breathless. "I think you're _crushing_ on me."

Gohan took a gulp of air and realized maybe he was.

Bra laughed a little and made to roll them over. The spiky haired man complied, finding his head amongst the pillows he slept with each night. She stared down at him.

"That's my genius code for 'you're heavy.'"

"Oh." Gohan felt like a fool, like he was a boy again with no clue.

Bra didn't seem to care as she slid down him and began to pull his belt out. Gohan fought back a moan as the pressure on him was peeled back by her hands on his zipper.

He wanted to be quiet; even if they were the only two people on the mountain it didn't make this any less… private. Even if he'd planned for this, it didn't make him feel like this shouldn't be kept quiet.

He scrubbed at his face with sweaty palms, feeling flushed and disorientated. It wasn't like this normally. He was more composed that this. But then again, he _wasn't_ because Bra had him on his back and then she had her mouth on him.

She'd done something like this before in his office, but now she struggled to take him all the way into her mouth. Gohan put his hand in that ocean coloured hair, guiding her head into a better angle and then pushed her down.

He couldn't _fit._

She dug her blunt fingernails into the sensitive skin of his thighs and Gohan gasped. She might have left crescent moon marks in his legs, but he couldn't bring himself to think about it for very long.

Bra wrapped her hand around the base of him and stroked with almost bruising pressure in a slow motion. It was torture.

He let out a strangled damning moan.

He loved it.

It had to stop.

Gohan blearily realized he'd been roughly pumping Bra's head up and down and stilled his hand. Bra looked up at him curiously with those deep blue eyes and he shuddered, a thrilling sensation filling his stomach.

He released himself all over her chest and face before there was a chance to stop.

Gohan gasped and let his head fall back weakly against the pillows.

He felt the bed sheets rustle and then Bra climbed back on top of him and a soft pink tongue was touching itself to his nipples.

Gohan spasmed and tried to curl in on himself, but Bra used the movement to roll them over so that he was on top of her once more.

"We're not done yet," Bra whispered into his mouth, stare dark from underneath her damp bangs. She hooked one thin leg around his hip, lazily trailing her pointed toes up and down the back of his leg, working his pants the rest of the way down so that they could be kicked off the foot of the bed.

Gohan stirred to life against her, the press of their bodies together was just too delicious not to savour. He rocked himself against her, noticing her panties were soaked through.

He found the side of her neck with his lips and kissed and sucked, bringing a hand down to slip in between the flimsy material and her pelvis. Gohan hardened at the feel of her slickness, and the fact that someone who wore such provocative clothing still had the decency to choose the most modest and age appropriate underwear.

It meant she was a good girl, underneath.

He slipped a finger inside her, making Bra gasp heavily. So good. He pumped it into her, listening as her breathing sped up in time with his movements.

Gohan added a second finger and moved even faster still.

"O-Oh Oh Kami—" Bra's back arched and her small breasts crushed against his chest. Gohan wrapped his free arm around to keep her in place.

He pulled his fingers out of her, a small wet fleshy sound, and ripped the panties away, a loud tearing noise. Bra squeaked and made a sound between gratification and pain as he slapped her on her swollen entrance in quick succession, before pressing his thumb mercilessly against that little girlish point of sheer pleasure.

"A-Ahh!" Bra's toes curled and fingernails dug.

Gohan slid three fingers into her, and it was suddenly _tight._

Bra threw her head back and came with a loud shout, shuddering violently like a captured butterfly cupped in his hands.

"Gohan…" She breathed out, disoriented and lying spread out in a floppy ragdoll manner.

The teacher calmly picked away the remnants of her panties. There was an angry red line where the elastic and broken away along her hips and he smoothed his hand over the welts, distantly registering that just one of his hands covered her whole hip and that she was small but he was so hard and aching in his other hand.

He guided himself to her entrance and pushed in.

Bra made a shocked little pant and her eyes became wide with something that looked like almost panic but Gohan thought it more likely was anticipation.

She gave a guttural growl and grabbed at the headboard and pillows tightly, watching down the short length of her body and he thrust himself in and then back out, in and then out…

"Oooh, please—faster!" She rolled her hips to urge him on but Gohan didn't listen, instead choosing to hold her hips down in a dead lock and penetrate her slowly, deeply, and_ just like that._

"B-Bra," Gohan choked out. He felt like he was so deep, each time he thrust forward it was with more force than the last. He'd never done it like this before. No matter how hard he slammed into her, she didn't break. She just gasped, and clenched tighter.

She arched up at a particularly hard jab so far that her spine looked like it was trying to become a circle. Gohan scooped her up and pulled out as he flipped her over to crush her face first into the mattress.

"_Teach!_" Her tone was bordering on disbelief but he didn't let her finish that thought as he dragged up her hips and spread the small mounds of her behind to plunge back inside.

Bra nearly screamed and, it was so good not to be silent, Gohan panted in what he would have seen as some kind of madness if he'd been watching with his usual frame of mind.

"Harder, harder, harder!" Bra cried out and with each syllable Gohan slammed himself inside her small passage. With each pounding, her knees slipped apart farther and farther until she almost fell, and Gohan picked her up with one hand kneading her soft breast and the other painfully pressing into that swollen little button below.

Gohan dimly heard Bra's cries as she came. He felt that familiar rush of heat and adrenaline in his pelvis and he couldn't stop.

"O-Oh Bra…ah…" Gohan came, feeling the hot liquid explode inside his student. He kept thrusting even though he was buried as deep as he could be inside of Bra. Both of his hands flattened against her stomach in an unyielding press of ecstasy.

They fell into the sheets with complete abandon.

After a few moments, Bra panted out from below him, "Tha-That was amazing…"

Gohan didn't reply, just watched as he slipped his softened length from her entrance and she curled up onto her side.

He hoped she didn't want to do it again.

Because he did.

The two half Saiyans stayed like that for some time, just catching their breaths.

Bra's eyelids looked heavy and he took the rumpled sheets to cover them both.

Everything was suddenly so quiet. It was like there had been a thousand bees all buzzing at once in his head and then, at this very moment, they'd stopped. He didn't know where to look, what to say, how to feel, but Bra's breath had deepened and he sensed that she had fallen asleep.

The room was dark and in disarray. Had they really been than frenzied to not notice how things had been upset?

A picture frame on the bedside table was laying face down, and helplessly Gohan righted it. The family portrait.

Even though he was exhausted, because fun was exhausting and now the fun was over, his mind was running a mile a minute.

Gohan stayed that way, staring at the portrait until somehow, without his consent, he fell asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z/GT and all its likeness does not belong to me. No profits are being made off this story.

* * *

**Only Stop When I Say When**

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* * *

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**Chapter 7**

She was humming that song that always played on the radio nowadays.

Gohan rolled over and covered his head with the blanket. The happy melody didn't stop. He heard the blinds being drawn in sharp quick motions and then there was awful, awful, sunlight streaming in.

"Videl, it's Sunday… It's too early…"

That stopped the sound.

Gohan sat up bleary eyed and tried to un-stick his eyelids enough to blink the sleep out of them.

Bra Briefs stood by the open window, sending a sly look over her slim naked shoulder.

Gohan just stared. Numbly he knew that this situation had been unavoidable but he'd never actually taken the time to think about having to live through it. Instead, he just let himself ignore the severe awkwardness that was creeping up on him.

"Bra." He started in a strongly discomfited voice, then coughed and continued, "Good morning…"

He appraised her slim naked body which was covered by red welts and bruises from the night before. Gohan pulled the blankets away to reveal his own naked body. It was only fair. They could be awkward on their morning after, together.

Bra made her way back to the bed and slid onto the mattress next to him. The scholar felt a spike of adrenaline pierce its way up his spine.

"What, no clever line about there being no class on Sundays?" Bra grinned around the question, as if it was supposed to be actually pretty funny.

Gohan swallowed and it felt like his Adam's apple had been replaced by a rock.

Bra got up on her knees and then encircled Gohan's rapidly blushing neck with her bare arms. "I'm kinda surprised you haven't decided to give-me-" She placed a kiss to the side of his mouth, "_Detention_. I have been a little… bad."

Her hands tunnelled into his hair and she opened her legs to straddle him. Gohan felt guilty that he was already hard.

"Last night was more amazing than I expected." Bra said quietly into his ear. It was a little smug, and Gohan never liked it when girls were smug, but she lifted up and let him slip inside.

He groaned at the sudden sensation, hot and tight, and wasn't this supposed to happen only once?

It couldn't happen again. It really couldn't.

Gohan closed his eyes, feeling a kind of dizzy nausea overtake his mind; like he was suspended in a pool of water not knowing which way was up. His head fell back and suddenly his brain was swimming.

Bra rode on top of him making little noises of pleasure each time he filled her, but it wasn't enough, but it was more than enough, because this was _wrong._

Gohan reached up to adjust his glasses but realized that he wasn't in class and that's why he wasn't wearing them.

"Teach…" Bra teasingly moaned, hugging him tight around the neck.

He lurched forward and Bra's back hit the mattress. Gohan pumped his hips back and forth, grinding their pelvises together with a delicious pressure that made him want everything else to be the last thing on his mind.

"Mng.." Gohan let the frustrated sound escape his lips and then, feeling disappointed in himself, pulled out of Bra so that he could push her legs up until her knees wanted to touch her shoulders.

"Oh, y-es!" Bra's small voice immediately became loud when he slammed back into her from the new angle and she moaned, utterly desperate.

He was feeling desperate too. For a way out, a way in, a way _out_—

Their bodies dissolved together into a blur of sweaty skin and the floral print bed sheets as they found release.

* * *

Later he took her to the kitchen and made them a meal. He put the oatmeal in the little pot on the stove just like he did on lazy weekends with Videl and Pan, sprinkling in some cinnamon.

Bra watched him from her seat at the table, twirling her finger around on the surface in a bored manner.

"I'm not going to eat that." She said.

He knew that. Bra had always been picky, ever since he'd met her it had been easy to see. If something wasn't up to her standards then it wasn't worth her time.

Gohan stirred slowly then scraped at the bottom so it wouldn't stick. The burner's tiny ring of heat felt so pronounced on the undersides of his wrists that everywhere else seemed like it was freezing.

"Bra…" Gohan asked, not turning around. "Why me?"

Deluded, it could have been said as: _Is it going to keep being me?_

She'd grabbed up his discarded shirt earlier and wrapped her naked body with it. There were no buttons so it couldn't be fastened, but he didn't think it would have looked any better that way.

He chose not to look.

"I wanted to know what it was like."

"Oh. I…" His eyebrows danced up and down behind his thick glasses frames. "I didn't know you were a…"

Bra burst out laughing. It sounded like loud bells on a deserted playground. "Really, Teach." The nickname struck a chord deep within him that he resented, because it felt good. "I definitely wasn't new to… well." She smirked.

He couldn't delay it further, and took the pot to the table and poured the thick meal into a single bowl. Gohan sat down and wondered whether he should have offered to make her something else. He thought of all the different foods he could have made, because anything was better than thinking about Bra doing _that_ with someone else.

She winked and shook some long hair out of the shirt collar. The sleeves covered all of her arms except for the painted tips of her fingers. She got up and pushed his bowl away from the place setting, which Gohan supposed was alright. He'd just been staring while it congealed.

"I mean, I wanted to see what it was like to do it with… someone the same as me."

"Bra," Gohan groaned as she sat on top of him, her thighs stretched over his lap like an archway. "We're very much _opposites_."

He held her hips in his large hands and then smoothed them up underneath the men's shirt to feel her bare back. It was only natural that she arched to meet him, that she kissed a trail up his collarbone to behind his ear.

He felt her grin against the side of his face and make a slightly amused sound, like a snicker that scratched the back of her lips to get free.

"You know what I mean. Our _blood._"

Gohan froze.

"Yeah." Bra pouted cutely and then broke out into a teasing laughter that tinkled into Gohan's brain like chimes.

"And I was…" She twisted in his lap a little, her bony pale knees sinking down over his thighs, her hands slipping around his neck which should have felt good but now Gohan couldn't help thinking, 'noose.'

"Very satisfied," Her voice was low, "with what I found."

The girl brushed her fingers down Gohan's chest, down his stomach and lower still. He flinched.

The touches were like an ice cold pinprick to his feverish skin. He didn't bother to stop her. He had nothing to even say as she sunk back down until she was kneeling on the kitchen floor, the overly large shirt hanging off her and that sea-blue hair curtained over her face as she hands over the front of his house pants.

"It was so hard to wait to go the whole way with you… but I'm glad I did. I guess, the schoolgirl thing is a little sordid, but…" She paused and placed open mouth kisses all over the sliver of skin exposed below his shirt.

Gohan looked down at her. She looked back up in a way that was positively criminal and Bra said, "I'm _okay_ with sordid."

She inched down his waistband.

He should have seen it before.

Of course he'd been curious too, all those years ago when he'd found out he was half human, half something else.

Gohan was an _experiment._

But he'd been young, too young, to even think about what it meant in other more… adult terms. And by the time Gohan had gotten to that stage in his life, he'd grown used to being different and, at the same time, desperately trying hard to fit in.

There were only the two families, after all. Vegeta's, and his.

It made sense, to an alarming degree, that the strength and aggressiveness inherent to the Saiyan race would be attractive. He'd just never considered it before; the basic reason why he'd been attracted to her and vice versa.

_How stupid he'd been!_

Even more stupid than getting involved with a _student_ of all things!

Bra had come to him because she was part Saiyan. And so was he.

The teen clamped her lips tightly around him and her cheeks hollowed. He dug a hand into her silky hair and gripped at her roughly. She didn't seem to mind, face full of a blush and that smug look in her eyes.

Why she was here was as clear as day now. Why Bra had gotten caught up with him, a family friend and her _teacher_; playing this dangerous game. It was simply because she could.

That was all. That was everything that their affair was based on.

There'd never been any other reason why he and Bra had come to this point. She hadn't been looking at him and seeing _him._ But that didn't matter, because he'd been looking at her and seeing what he wanted to.

He gasped, a strangled sound captured in his throat rattled around and then escaped as a growl, deep and low. Bra continued to suck and lick at him as Gohan came down from his high.

The answer to that ever present question 'Why me?' shocked him with its clinical ugliness. It made him want to double over in a misery that squeezed him in its vice-like grip. One thought above all else he knew of to be true.

This was going to stop.

Right now.

And that's when the doorbell rang_._

* * *

Gohan stood so fast his chair fell backwards and cracked against the floor.

Bra jumped in surprise and bumped her head on the edge of the table as she got up. She rubbed the lump in annoyance. "_Ugh_. Gohan—"

"Get upstairs." Gohan said quietly. He pulled up his pants in one rigid motion. His skin felt sickly cold all over.

"Just tell them to go away." Bra suggested with an arrogant smirk.

"Bra," Gohan uttered without looking around, voice barely a whisper. "It's your father."

Suddenly she was holding the shirt hanging off her shoulders in a tight white knuckled grip. Bra turned and ran up the stairs.

Gohan's feet felt like they were made of lead, rooted to the floor. He didn't know what to do, what was he supposed to do?

He had to answer it. Just like how he could sense Vegeta outside the door, he was sure Vegeta could sense him too.

Did he sense Bra as well?

Gohan's heart raced to keep up with his brain, each organ zooming away into a red hot panic. No, Bra had a barely-there ki signature— surely she wasn't a blaring point of energy… She could pass as any normal human, but…

No, he couldn't let himself get overwhelmed. He didn't even know _why_ Vegeta was there in the first place. He'd have to open the door, act surprised, and then make a general inquiry. Then, he would know exactly how much Vegeta did.

The older Saiyan had never been one for subterfuge and was more prone to beating someone to a pulp rather than beating around the bush.

If Gohan was greeted with a ki blast to the face then he'd have his answer.

The doorbell rang again followed by a few simple knocks.

With no other option, Gohan opened the door.

* * *

He made sure to open the door as _little_ as possible.

"Vegeta!" He said in a happy sort of tone, a half smile locked on his face. There stood the older man, permanent scowl in place and arms crossed. He looked annoyed with having to stand on the homely stoop, just like his daughter had.

"Gohan." Vegeta replied, beady eyes scanning what he could see of the home's interior.

Gohan took a step outside and closed the door behind him to stand outside with the other man. It was mild weather outside on the Sunday afternoon. Trees were rustling with a light breeze that would sometimes become a little stronger, and at the moment there was a mass of clouds covering the sun.

"What brings you all the way out here? I haven't seen you in a while." Gohan asked with a little laugh, scratching the back of his head.

"I'll get straight to the point," Vegeta said, slowly uncrossing his arms and placing them in his pockets, creating a more relaxed look.

Gohan internally tensed but he was glad that his knowledge of Vegeta's personality had been proven correct.

"I'm looking for Bra."

Gohan's mind spun the sentence around like a cyclone.

'_He's looking for Bra. That could mean a number of things. For one, he didn't say he'd was here for her, and he didn't immediately pummel me. What's his objective here?'_

He couldn't all ask a question in return, lest he appear to know too much. Likewise, he couldn't exactly say 'Oh, is she missing?' either, in case Vegeta knew exactly where she was and caught him lying about her being upstairs in his bedroom.

No, he had to play this like Bra _could_ be here, but not for the real reasons. Likewise, he couldn't let on that she _was_ inside just in case Vegeta didn't know. It was going to be tricky. The wild card in this situation was Bra.

She hadn't _told_ Vegeta, had she?

He knew the two of them were close… much closer than Gohan and Pan had ever been. He didn't bother to acknowledge the sour feeling that had burst in his chest at the thought. But Vegeta was wildly protective of Bra as well, and somehow he didn't think her saying 'I'm going over to Mount Poazu to have sex with Son Gohan all weekend' would have gone over well.

Gohan let himself blink and his eyes seemed a little wider. "Did you phone her?"

Vegeta raised one eyebrow. "Her phone is turned off."

Gohan didn't let himself reply, realizing he'd only back himself into a corner if he did that. He'd have to wait for Vegeta to spur the conversation on.

The short flame-haired man looked away, off to the horizon where the mountainous range was fading into clouds before they even touched the sky.

"I'm getting old, I don't have time for this…" He said under his breath. It didn't matter what he was saying, Gohan felt each word prick and stab his skin with perfect terrible clarity.

They were both fathers. And Gohan was the worse one.

The prince of the dead race turned back to him then, and fixed him with an even stare that Gohan couldn't read.

"Well don't make me stand here all day, boy. You'll help me look."

It felt like Gohan's heart froze and fell to the bottom of his shoes before his brain kicked in and churned madly. Did that mean that Vegeta wanted him to open the door and take him upstairs?

Gohan felt his stomach flutter in an unpleasant sensation. Or did that mean Vegeta wanted Gohan to go with him, to whatever places his daughter frequented?

The questions were driving him insane. On the one hand, if he went with Vegeta, then Bra would have a chance to leave and get them in the clear. On the other, it seemed absolutely ridiculous that Vegeta would need _his_ help to search for his missing daughter and was more likely willing to take him to another location to instigate a confrontation.

No, there was something fishy going on here. But it wasn't like Gohan could make a move in either direction. Both hands held outcomes that would likely slap him in the face with disgrace.

But wasn't that what had to happen?

He'd been yearning… aching for this to _stop._ After he'd woken up, what did he think would happen? That his exploits with Bra would not linger, like a splash of cool water evaporating away that he could just forget about?

No. Now that he'd been consumed by that irresponsible desire, things were rapidly turning into a sour aftertaste… It was stuck to him. It wouldn't go away. He was tarnished.

He was _ruined._

This wouldn't flutter away like a leaf from a tree. He'd grown something horrible, planted a seed that had burst into his life like poison.

"You _do_ have a teenage daughter too." Vegeta grumbled. "Troublesome as they are. So show me where they go."

"R-Right." Gohan nodded and Vegeta lifted into the air, aura powerful as always. He never dumbed himself down. Gohan followed and as one they blasting away towards that horizon.

The ex-warrior turned scholar only had one thought as they rocketed across the sky.

_Bra, please don't be there when I get back!_


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z/GT and all its likeness does not belong to me. No profits are being made off this story.

* * *

**Only Stop When I Say When**

* * *

**Chapter 8**

_Bra, please don't be there when I get back!_

* * *

Goten fiddled with his keychain for the right one. He'd dropped off his mother at her own dwelling, along with a mountain of new appliances, clothing and bargain sale items. He shook his head, shifting his own packages around in his arms. Of course, Goten would never say no to a new set of Capsule boots, or belts, or tube socks in every colour…

He jammed the key into the slot and raised his eyebrows when the door swung open without having to turn it.

"Gohan?" He called out as he stepped inside and placed his purchases on the hallway table.

Goten extended his ki, and suddenly his eyes narrowed realizing his brother was definitely not in the house, but someone else was.

He bounded up the stairs in a mere blur before reappearing in front of Pan's room. There weren't any suspicious noises when he strained his ears, but it was completely out of character for Pan to be shuffling around her room with a light foot.

His little niece usually clomped around noisily like she was pissed off with the floor. Goten figured this was an effect of the only child syndrome and didn't judge – much. The half Saiyan shrugged and kicked the door in.

The stranger screamed.

"Um." Goten said smartly.

Bra was staring back at him with some of Pan's things in her hands.

Goten blinked. "What the hell are you doing?"

* * *

They flew without speaking for long minutes that stretched by slowly compared to the rushing landscapes beneath.

Gohan felt his heart drumming inside his chest, the tingle of pressure at his temples and pulse points. They were going in circles.

Vegeta was leading him in circles.

But he'd been going in a downwards spiral all this time, hadn't he? Gohan grit his teeth, knowing without a doubt in his gut that it was true.

The resistance he'd put up, which hadn't been much; the temptation Bra had offered, which could have – no, _should_ have – been resisted, it all came down to the terrible conclusion he'd been unwilling to face.

Bra wasn't the teacher's pet.

He was the pet teacher.

Suddenly, a white hot spike of sensation lanced through his mind. It was the telltale sign of an increase in ki. He would have recognized it anywhere.

_Pan!_

Almost a second later, guilt sliced through his stomach like a saw, rough and serrated. Of course Vegeta knew where his daughter was. Of course he knew.

Vegeta banked left, and both of the Saiyans knew the other had felt the increased power level.

Should he try to stop the older man? Try to lie or deny it? Gohan followed just behind him, letting the despair flood his features like a damn that had been finally broken. It was all going to stop.

"Vegeta!" The name tumbled from his mouth and sailed across the wind. "They—Pan, and Videl. They don't know." He yelled over the rushing air.

Vegeta didn't so much as slow down or turn his head, but he answered in that deep stony voice, "_I_ know, Gohan."

And just like that, all the weight of guilt he'd been holding onto fell away like the pieces of a broken mirror, each shard a lie that reflected the next; a world of bright dangerous splinters.

Gohan exhaled, slow. The ground rushed up to meet him as he landed in front of his home. The yelling going on in the driveway didn't even meet his ears. All noise fizzled away into nothingness, Vegeta on his left was powering up so efficiently that it burned away the rest of his senses.

He supposed it was meant to be like this all along. This was how it had to happen. It made a certain amount of sense that the hot shame in Gohan's heart when Videl's tear-filled eyes met his was the only thing he could feel.

* * *

The truth was wide open.

"You're LYING! Bra, you little piece of—" Pan was screeching before Goten clamped a hand over her mouth.

"Quiet!" He hissed. "Stop yelling! You want your grandma down here too?"

Oh kami, his _mother_. That would truly make him a public disgrace.

"All..Alright," Videl was saying in a shaky voice. "Tell me again what you're doing here, Bra…"

Bra screwed up her face, squinted back and forth between the woman and her father. "I came here looking for Pan, but Gohan told me she's out…"

Goten's quieting hand was ripped away and Pan flung herself forward in rage. "LIE! That's a LIE!"

"This is mental…" Goten was muttering to himself even as his thumb rapidly worked on his phone.

Bra scowled and backed away. "Dad, let's go."

Videl's voice was low and pained. "No… that's not right." But it wasn't exactly certain what she was responding to.

"Gohan," Those blue eyes were pleading with him. "Tell me what's going on."

"We had sex." Gohan found the words tumbling out, full of desperation. "We had… an affair. Not anymore, it's stopped."

And just like that, everything broke out into chaos.

"LIAR!"

"No…"

"What?"

"Rrrrraaaahhhgg!" Vegeta's roar of anger oppressed everyone else's reactions and suddenly he was a super Saiyan, with one hand clamped around Gohan's neck.

He'd been expecting this. This was how it was going to—

"I knew it." Vegeta hissed right into his face, spit landing all over and breaking up Gohan's fragmented thoughts.

"I-I-kk-" Choked, Gohan raised his ki as well, which only served to make Vegeta that much angrier.

"Stop!" Bra yelled out.

"My dad didn't do anything!" Pan cried out in anger. The tips of her hair were clumping together into spikes. She charged at the two men, fury in her eyes.

Vegeta just rounded on her and grabbed the small girl by the collar. She kicked uselessly stuck in his iron grip.

"Didn't he?" The Prince asked. "This is exactly what _you_ warned me about."

"W-What…?" Videl gasped out.

"I _didn't_— I never thought it was—!" Pan cried.

"What!" Bra raged.

"Oh yes." Vegeta was smug, holding both Pan and her father by their necklines. Gohan couldn't take his eyes off his daughter as she stared down at him, completely distraught.

"This brat came to our home the other day, letting me know what you've been up to at school."

The blue haired girl reeled back as though she'd been slapped. Goten caught her arm before she backed into the garden patch, a gobsmacked look on his face.

"N-No, no, no, no!" She denied. "Daddy, I _never—_"

"Don't _lie_, Bra. You've done it long enough." Vegeta replied to her, no longer caring to spare her a glance. He tossed Pan like a rag doll over to her mother, who flew up and caught her.

"You think I can't sense when my own daughter is near? That when I knocked on the door that I didn't know who was inside?" He stared down into Gohan's face which was twisted in a grimace. "I even flew around with you like an idiot, giving you a chance to come clean. But you did not."

His eyes narrowed until Gohan's face was the only thing in his vision. Gohan grimly looked back. "Make no mistake," Vegeta warned in that gravelly low voice of his. "I know exactly how to punish you. Shall we wait a little longer for more people to turn up?"

When Gohan didn't answer – he _couldn't_ – Vegeta slammed a ball of burning ki that had been building in his fist straight into his gut.

It forced him to his knees in the dirt on the ground, the luscious mountain grass having been blast away by the full-blooded Saiyan's power.

Gohan coughed out a wad of blood and spit along with the answer: "No!"

The older warrior seemed to turn it over in his head only for a second before grinning viciously. Vegeta's fists were suddenly hanging in the air above his pointy head. The Saiyan prince's face was red and furious as he brought his arms down.

"STOP. STOP!"

But still Vegeta's hot knuckles carved into his face. Over and over.

Bra had never even bothered to call out for him.

Gohan's heart clenched tightly; it was all worthless, what he'd done. And still, it was his family who were calling for him now. His brother, his daughter and his wife. Was that his mother he heard too?

The crushing of cartilage was loud but hollow in his ears and he was almost choking on his own blood; there was so much running down his face.

"VEGETA STOP!" Videl's voice rang loud and clear. Both Pan and Goten were holding Vegeta by the fist, struggling to keep it from raining down one more blow.

The pure unadulterated fury froze and broke away like an icicle in a sudden thaw. Vegeta's golden aura disappeared, and his breaths were coming fast and hard as he lowered his hand.

The ex-warrior, now scholar, now beaten to a pulp, Gohan gave a watery sigh. He could hear his mother weeping openly. It was the only sound he could ever remember hearing all his life. It was the same sound that punctuated each time he or his father had done something to hurt her. This time it was all for him.

All for him. It was deafening.

He watched as Vegeta shook his daughter and brother off. Pan tried to rush to him, but Goten held her back, dragging his hysterical daughter to where the family stood.

Gohan was thankful for that. This was far from over.

The once great Z fighter could only imagine the pathetic sight he made now, lying at Vegeta's feet on the dusty ki-baked ground. Ironically, he'd been here a few times before.

This was the first time he felt he deserved to be there.

He rolled onto his back and groaned. It didn't matter. Whatever dignity he'd ever had had left him that day in his office, when he'd read the words _'Give in'_ and listened.

"Did you get what you want?" Vegeta spat at him from above. A dirty boot toed him brutally in the ribs making him cry out.

There were gasps and renewed crying from somewhere closer to the house and Gohan tried to shake his head. He couldn't tell if it was moving; all he could feel was the brilliant head-swimming motion that was telltale of a concussion.

Vegeta wasn't finished. "Do you finally _feel_-" He dug the heel of his boot into Gohan's mouth, "The damage you've caused my family? Your _own?_"

His body was already healing, and he sat up despite the way his head felt like sinking between his knees. "No," Gohan croaked out, his voice slippery and wet.

He reached out and took Vegeta's arm by the wrist, gently, and the prince let his hand be guided to Gohan's exposed chest. His hand smoothed over Vegeta's, their fingers intertwining for just a moment before he closed the older man's hand into a fist. Their eyes met and Gohan closed his own, letting his hand hang back down at his side once more.

"Should I stop your _punishment_ for what you've done?" Vegeta's voice was soft and gruff, like a hot breath against the Son's face.

Gohan compared it to the forbidden breath of Bra, and squeezed his eyelids even tighter. The short affair was now a fading memory, a bad dream of eyes and empty exploration.

The only tangible thing left was the feeling of self-loathing and the need for justice.

It was dark now and Gohan knew that after this fight was over, their families would never be able to go back to the way it had been. He'd finally managed something greater than even his father had ever done.

No wonder his father had preferred being dead. Disappointing loved ones at the cost of selfish personal thrills was the most despicable feeling in the world.

But he was going to live with this. He had to. Because facing Goku and Piccolo in the afterlife seemed even worse.

His heart tightened painfully like it'd been squeezed in the palm of his own hand.

They'd part ways after this, he knew. Until all living memory of this affair was firmly buried in the ground, the two last living strands of Saiyan blood would never cross paths again, for at least a hundred or more years.

A single puff of laughter escaped Gohan's lips, curving them into an empty smile as he answered;

"Only stop when I say when."

**The End.**


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